I have something to confess. As weird as this 2020 holiday season is, there’s something actually kind of nice about it. Usually, by this time in December, I’m busier than a one-armed paper hanger: running here and there, working our craft table down to the Christmas Bazaar at St. Hyacinth’s, shopping, baking, wrapping, yikes! Oh, and don’t forget the overeating (some of it stress related, some of it just me getting swept up in the moment). There would have been my book group’s potluck and Yankee swap, customers down to the A&P bringing in baked goods, the Heavenly Treats booth at the Christmas Bazaar, where I can never yank myself away from Sister Henry Georgiana’s …

Last Saturday, I run into Mikey’s Meat Market to get some bacon, went to order, and realized I was naked! No mask! I have never done that before. Sure, I’ve forgotten my mask, remembered halfway to the door, then had to go back to my car. But I’ve never actually walked into a store without one. The weird thing is, it felt unnatural. I went to order, realized what I’d done, covered my mouth with my hand and said, “Oh my God! I forgot my mask. I’ll be right back.” And I dashed outta there. It’s amazing how we’ve adapted to a new normal. It’s not always easy, though. Here’s Charlie’s latest. Where’s My Mask? …

Have you noticed? Folks sure are putting up their Christmas decorations early this year. If you follow my blog, you know I have opinions about this: when to put ‘em up and when to take ‘em down. And in normal times, it’s not the middle of November. I’ve always said, Tom Turkey should have his day; no Xmas decorations until after Thanksgiving. But as my co-worker Kim said to me a couple of weeks ago, “It’s 2020, Ida. No rules apply. I already put up my Christmas tree and have started decorating. Don’t judge! I need a little joy in my life, right now!” And you know what? She right! Heck, we’ve already re-thought Thanksgiving, …

Thanksgiving is going to look a little different this year, isn’t it? I know, that can be unsettling. I remember the first one after our mother died. Thanksgiving was always her favorite holiday, and we tried to do it just like she used to. And you know what? It just didn’t work. In fact, it just made us miss her more. As the years have passed, though, we’ve created new traditions, ones that suit us at thatmoment in time. For instance, our niece Caitlin and her boyfriend Adam are a vegetarians, and now we do “stuffin’ muffins” (stuffing not cooked in the bird, but in muffin tins and made with veggie broth). These are great, …

The other day I says to Charlie, “We gotta put the grill in the shed for the winter.” Now, I have no intention of doing this myself. It’s the kind of chore Charlie usually does (after I remind him). We both know that by “we,” I mean “him.” It’s the same “we” that comes into play when I say, “Boy, that recycling’s sure piling up. About time we made a trip down to the transfer station.” Or, “We oughta sure up that bottom step on the deck, don’t you think? Maybe put up a new railing?” It’s the royal “we.” I got to thinking about it, asking myself if this is a two way street …

When your dog gets excited, does he sneeze? I read on the internet, it means that they’re happy. Well then, our dog Scamp must be extra happy because when we’re getting ready to take our morning walk Charlie, Scamp, and me, our little fella turns into a sneezing fool. I mean, one sneeze right after another. It’s kind of funny unless you’re running late, then it’s kind of irritating. That’s because Scamp’s not a multi-tasker. If he’s sneezing, he can’t do anything else. Especially not sit still to don his halter and leash. Charlie was so taken with this trait, he wrote a poem about it. Hot to Trot Imagine you’re so hot to trot …

Since election day is tomorrow, I know I should probably be writing about that. You know, telling you to get out there and vote, how important it is and all that. But to be honest, most of the folks I know have already voted and dropped their ballots off down to town hall. I did it last week when I was registering my car. Sure there’s a drop box, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I personally handed my ballot to Gladys Knight. Not Gladys Knight with the Pips, but Gladys Knight our town clerk. “Gladys,” I says, “I just want to make sure my signature is okay and my vote will be counted.” “Oh, …

When is a bargain a bargain, and when is it a waste of time and money? Case in point:  What a Deal On my way home from the dump I stopped at someone’s sale I smelled a bargain lurking, and This nose, it doesn’t fail I zoomed in on some rubber boots They just jumped out at me The kind you’d wear for hunting ducks, That come up to your knee LaCrosse 800’s what they were And just as good as new They looked about my size, and fully Insulated, too “Are you a ten?” the woman asked Ten is what I wear “Then they should fit you good and snug And keep you dry …

Holy cow! Are there a lot of stunk bugs this year, or what? You know what I’m talking about. Those brownish bugs about a ½ inch long that appear in your house toward the end of September, beginning of October. The ones that, if you upset them or, God forbid squish them, they emit a terrible odor? It’s a smell that lingers, and (get this) attracts other stink bugs! I know! Where’s the justice? You try sealing everything up, but they’re sneaky. They say on the internet that stink bugs are harmless. But are they really? The irritation alone is enough to raise you blood pressure. And, as you know, I have a wicked sharp …

Candy Corn is not a vegetable. I know. It doesn’t seem fair. If it was, let me tell you, Doctor Oz would be very proud of me right now because I’ve been managing to squeeze in at least five servings of candy corn per day. And that’s before lunch. The thing is, I don’t even like candy corn that much. I mean, what is it really? Well, I looked it up, and candy corn is made up of sugar, water, corn syrup and marshmallow, so it’s just packed with nutrients. Get this: a “serving size” is supposed to be 19 pieces. Seriously? I have a bottomless bowl of candy corn at home and every time …