Boy oh boy. What is it they say? If you don’t like the weather in New England, wait a minute. Ain’t that the truth. The Poet Laureate of Mahoosuc Mills tackles that very subject in his latest. Arctic Blast How about that arctic blast We got the weekend before last? Forty below with wind chill factor! How could any creature hack ‘er? January weren’t as bad As you’d expect, so we were glad Suddenly the temp’s, they fell And blessed us with this Arctic Hell T’wasn’t fit for man or beast We didn’t like it in the least, The dog and I, t’was just too cold To go out for our daily stroll So cold, …

Have you ever had a chore that just gets shuffled from one to-do list to another? Something that needs to be fixed or put away or thrown away, but you never to get to it. “Maybe tomorrow,” you say. But tomorrow never comes. And by the by, you don’t even notice anymore when you jiggle the handle of the pesky toilet. Or automatically bump your hip against that drawer that sticks when you come to shut it Well, you’re not alone. Charlie got inspired. Not to do his chore, but to write a poem about not doing it.  I’ll Get To It One Of These Days There’s a nail head that catches my shovel, it …

My father passed away last Tuesday. He was two months shy of his 90th birthday. We knew it was coming for a few days. Irene and me were visiting, just been there an hour when it happened. Dad was in some sort of twilight place. He wasn’t really with us, but he hadn’t totally left either. Irene and me were laughing about something, and Dad just stopped breathing. The whole thing was so peaceful, not even a sigh. The last thing he heard was us laughing. We’re sad, of course, but relieved and grateful, too. I thought I’d take this week’s blog to remember Dad at his best by sharing a couple quick stories. I …

My sister, Irene, and me visit our dad down to Mahoosuc Green three to four times a week. Sometimes we go together, but most times we go separately. You know, so he gets more visits. Mahoosuc Green is our senior living facility in town. Their tag line is, “Experience your finest senior moments with us.” That may have been true when Dad was in independent living. Not so much when it comes to assisted living and memory care. That’s no fault of Mahoosuc Green. It’s just how things are. As my friend Shirley says, “Getting old ain’t for sissies.” See, Dad has dementia. Though he still recognizes us, thank God! There’s always this moment at …

A mild winter in Maine? I’m all in. I’m sure we’ll get some big storms eventually, but I’m content right now with rain and the occasional light snow. 20 degrees one day and 45 the next. When I think back to my winters as a kid, it seemed like we had big piles of snow for months. Maybe the snow banks just looked bigger because I was smaller. Found this picture from the olden days. See my expression. Even then I didn’t look all that excited about snow. Charlie seems to hanker more for a real winter than me. He misses ice fishing and snowmobiling. Hard to believe he misses plowing, snow blowing, roof raking …

It started with this thought, I miss the smell of wet wool. And as it happens when you get to be a certain age, all of a sudden I was transported back to my childhood. I don’t know if I’ve told you this story before or not, but hey, if you’re like me, you probably don’t remember either. I miss the smell of wet wool. In a world before polar fleece, that’s what winters smelled like in Maine. Wet wool, wood smoke and beans slow cooking all day Saturday. Beans cooking still smell like love to me. And wet wool. From the mittens and hats Nana made for us and the socks that Meme knit. …

Today is one of my most favorite days of the year. That’s right, baby: January 2nd. Sure, I love the holidays. Who doesn’t? But like with anything sweet, you can have too much of a good thing. You know it. I know it. And my fat jeans know it. Who am I kidding? Right about now my fat jeans are dangerously close to becoming my skinny jeans. Yowzah! It’s time to put on our leggings and settle in for a long winter’s nap. After all the food, fun and festivities, it’s nice to get back to a routine. I love a routine! Some might call it a rut, sure, but not me. A routine is …

We’re closing in on the first of the year, and none too soon, huh? Boy, workin’ down to the A&P, I’ve seen some mighty stressed out people, let me tell you! No need to name names. You know who you are. And if you’re not one of ‘em, you’ve seen ‘em, too, I’m sure. Men on a mission, running in to get that one last thing their wife forgot. With the eye of the tiger and no time for hellos, they dash into the produce section or down an aisle only to appear at the express lane five or ten or sometimes fifteen minutes later, deer in the headlights, sweat on their upper lip. You …

Is it a guy thing, or is it just my husband? Charlie, who is usually pretty level headed, can get so “busy” doing stuff that common sense flies out the window. He’ll say to me, “Man, I’ve had a headache all day.” “Did you take anything for it?” “Nope.” “Why not?” “Too busy.” Yup. Stopping what he’s doing in the yard, coming inside, popping a couple of pills, then going back too work (which would take all of five minutes) is just too much multi-tasking for him. It’s ridiculous! Then there was the incident last winter, after one of the big snow storms, I noticed it seemed to take Charlie forever to snow blow the …

Last week was a busy one with my only in-person performance of 2022, and getting ready for the Down Home Holiday Festival here  in Mahoosuc Mills. So, I thought I’d share some videos from A Very Ida Christmas! that we shot a few years ago. Enjoy! Love, Ida