Big day on Wednesday: Charlie’s birthday. Me, I always try to take my birthday off from work, but Charlie doesn’t. “Ida,” he says, “after a certain age, it’s just another day. I don’t want to think about it.” My feeling is, a birthday is cause for celebration, especially after a certain age. I’m on the back nine, as my golfer friend Betty says. Meaning, I’ve lived more of my life than I have left. So I say make the most of it. Heck, why confine yourself to just one day? Celebrate the whole month! Anyhoo, Charlie doesn’t make a big deal of his birthday. Still, I like to make it special. We get up earlier …

When the world’s your toilet, it’s hard to decide where to go and for how long. You gotta think things through and that involves a lot of sniffing. Well, it does for our dog, Scamp. I image it’s like reading the morning paper for the little guy. I admit, I’m more patient for this kind of dawdling or “dog-ling” as I call it, than Charlie is. I figure it’s Scamp chance to catch up with what’s new in the neighborhood. But Charlie’s a man on a mission. “Get ‘er done,” is his motto. He and Scamp have long discussions about it.  Our Discussion OK, fella, hup, hup hup! Come here, so I can cinch you …

The Poet Laureate of Mahoosuc Mills is at it again! It Could Have Been Worse  Damn snow blower crapped out in the slush So I began to shovel what I could of the mush Now I’m in the recliner, my wife’s the nurse My back is out of whack, but it could’ve been worse      It could have been worse, what else can you say?      Tylenol’s working, I’m doin’ OK      I’ll get to that slush, but first things first:      The Bruins are playin’, it could have been worse The doctor thought I should take a memory test I suspected that I wouldn’t score among the best So it wasn’t …

Ah, Valentine’s Day: that’s a favorite of mine. As a cashier down to the A&P, I get to see first hand all the nice stuff folks buy for their honeys: cards, red roses, and sweets for their sweeties. Plus, I get to wear red, which looks good on me (it’s in my color wheel). And, ofcourse, it’s a chance for Charlie to give me a box of chocolates and for me to bake him a batch of his favorite cookies. They’re your basic oatmeal raisin, except I use Raisinettes, so you get the chocolate and raisin thing going. Try it. They’re delicious! Valentine’s Day also signals that we only have about six more weeks of …

As I write this, Charlie’s out snow blowing. We didn’t get much, thank goodness, just three inches or so. I already cleaned off the cars after my walk with our little guy, Scamp. I was all bundled up anyways, and it’s a snap with my snow rake. Honey, this thing is amazing! It has a long handle with a hard rubber, orange rectangle on the end. I got it last winter to take the snow off the top of my car. This was prompted by an unfortunate incident that happened one day when I took Scamp to the vet for his yearly checkup. Now, Scamp is such a good boy everywhere expect in the car. …

Moving too fast is usually my MO. Just like my mom, I’m pretty quick on my feet and pride myself on multitasking to the max. Scamp, who tends to be right on my heels, has to have good reflexes. I’m forever almost trampling him as I quickly change direction because I remembered something else I needed to do or something I forgot in another room. Poor little fella always looks startled, and I admit every once and awhile a word not meant for Scamp’s sensitive ears escapes my mouth because I’m startled, too. Now Charlie’s not what I’d call a multitasker, and is usually good at concentrating on the chore at hand. He’s methodical and …

An incident happened this weekend I’m not proud of. In fact, I’m a little embarrassed to share it with you. But hey, it’s just us, right? So, picture this: it’s late Sunday morning. Charlie’s snoring in his Barcalounger. Scamp’s with me in the kitchen, dozing on his doggie bed. I’m puttering around, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, I feel one coming on. You know what I mean. Nobody except the dog is near, so I just let ‘er rip: long, loud and unapologetic. A real twenty-one gun salute. “What’s that?” Charlie yelps, nearly falling out of his chair. “Don’t know,” I yell. “Must be a car backfiring.” Could have been my …

My Christmas decorations were put away weeks ago now. The only thing I keep out for the winter are a pair of children’s snowshoes, though I do take the little red bows off. I like having them around. They were my mother’s when she was a kid, handmade by her uncle, Octave Pease. The webbing is made from the hide of a deer he shot himself. Octave: now there was a character. He come from a big family, I don’t know how many brothers and sisters. And they were all liars. You should have heard them when they’d get together. One would start to tell a story, and they’d all try to out do each …

Part of a happy marriage, in my opinion, is knowing what you’re good at and doing it. I’m a big fan of division of labor. Forcing Charlie to clean the house with me would be hell for both of us. And truth be told, I have no interest in going to the dump, mowing the lawn, or (God forbid!) snow blowing. We’ve just kind of negotiated and specialized over the years, and now we’re in a rhythm with it. Here’s Charlie’s take on this. I Do the Dishes Our kitchen is tiny There’s no room for two So when Ida’s cooking She tells me to shoo Me in the way Is not what she wishes …

I’m writing this on New Years Day. Charlie’s putting together a bird house he got for Christmas. He really wanted to get to it and it makes him happy, so why not? I told him, “No problem. I’ll walk Scamp this morning, and maybe we can all go out for an amble later on.” I enjoy a morning walk with the little guy. Not in the middle of a blizzard, of course. But the fact is, he gets me out lots of times when I wouldn’t bother. And amazing gifts come my way on these walks: a rosy sky at dawn with the dark silhouette of a tree’s bare branches, the smell of the outdoors …