Ran into Pearl Plaisted at the A&P end of last week. She was doing a little pre-holiday shopping. “Hi there, Pearl,” I says, as I’m ringing her out. “I see you’re gonna to be making some pies for Thanksgiving.” “Yup! Desserts are my department. My daughter Sally cooks the main meal. Oh, and I’m responsible for the homemade cranberry sauce.” “Yum! I bet that’s good. Where’s your side kick?” I ask, referring to her husband. “Haven’t you heard? Hank’s in the hospital.” “He is?” “Pneumonia.” “No! How long’s he been in?” “Since last Wednesday.” “That’s terrible!” “Well, he’d been feeling punky for a couple of weeks. Then, he’s in the bedroom, taking a nap, when …

November is National Family Caregivers Month, but for a lot of us, caregiving is a year round sort of thing. Caregivers are everywhere. There are paid caregivers, of course: nurses, social workers, childcare workers, the folks that work down to the senior center, to name a few. Family caregivers, however, are for the most part, unpaid: friends or family members who selflessly give of their time and energy to take care of people who need it. It’s your friend with small children, a sick husband or aging parents. Maybe you know someone who’s helping out a friend or even an acquaintance with a cancer diagnosis or Parkinson’s who doesn’t have any family to help. Heck, …

All of a sudden, I’m hearing this commotion in the bathroom. Sounds like Charlie’s trying to find something. “Hey, Ida!” “Yeah?” “You seen my nose hair clipper?” “Your what?” “You know, that thing I use to trim my nose hair.” “Where is it usually?” “Top drawer.” Nose hair clipper. I can kind of see it in my mind, this heavy, pewter-colored thing, looks kind of like a medieval torture device. “You mean that industrial strength roto-rooter I bought you a few years back?” “Yeah, that. Can’t find it.” Oh, no, I’m thinking. I can picture the thing now, in a plastic tray nestled between five or six lipsticks, all in crap colors, make you look …

It’s unbelievable how fast time flies as I get older. It seems like it was just Labor Day. We had such a beautiful fall, and I enjoyed every minute of it. But already Halloween is behind us, and Turkey Day is just around the corner. So, I guess we are officially in the holiday season. I mean, Christmas stuff is already in some stores. I say it every year, but it bears repeating: there ought to be a law against that. It’s like mums in August, just too soon. Pumpkins and Santa should not share shelf space. And then you add Tom Turkey into the mix. It’s unnatural! I’ve been pondering this, and I think …

Charlie and me are all set for Halloween Friday night. I bought a bunch of candy, ate it, bought some more, and you guess it. Now I’m candied out, so I took the left over candy and donated to the Community Center for their Halloween party. Who am I kidding? There was no left over candy. I had to buy more candy and drive directly to the Community Center, do not pass go, do not, under any circumstances, rip open that plastic bag. There was a moment where I thought they were going to have to pry that candy out of my hands, but I manage to let it go and run from the building …

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 to 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 …

Over the weekend, Charlie and me were out walking around the neighborhood. We passed Frank Ward’s place. He has a bigger than usual garage and works on vintage cars in his spare time. He’d just gotten a delivery of a new, old car, and there’s a couple of guys from away hanging out, coffee mugs in hand. Never seen ‘em before. The owners maybe? Being neighborly, I say, “Hi, there.” And Charlie goes, “Boy, that sure is beauty. Looks like it just needs a little TLC.” Then outta the blue, one of the guys (who frankly seemed like he had a little buzz on) looks at us and goes, “Did you know there are three …

October, my season of terror. Days are getting shorter, leaves piling up in the yard, frost on the pumpkin. But that’s not the problem. What’s plaguing me is what plagues me every October: the advent of them miniature candy bars. Snickers, Milky Ways, Butterfingers, they’re like crack cocaine to me. ‘Cause candy is love, baby, and I want me some love! Ida, I say to myself, don’t buy them until Halloween Day. And I start out strong, I really do. But then, oh-oh, there’s a bowl of candy corn at book group, or a bunch of small boxes on the counter at the dry cleaners. Or I’m at a birthday party where they’re serving chocolate …

Is it too early to switch over my clothes? Time for flannel sheets? I don’t know! One minute, I’m eyeing that cable knit sweater. The next, it’s seventy-five degrees. Same goes for that batch of soup I made on Thursday when it was cool, rainy and gray. Then, I had to freeze it because it got warm and muggy. Early fall is funny like that. But, I don’t really mind it all that much. Heck, I’ll take every scrap of warm weather I can get! We haven’t had a hard frost yet, so gardens are still sporting some of their late summer blooms, with a few potted mums thrown in for good measure. The trees …

Lately, Charlie’s been driving me crazy with all his aches and pains. Actually, it’s not the aches and pains, because I get it, we’re old. It’s the fact that he won’t do anything about ’em. And when I gently suggest he maybe take a Tylanol and call the doctor to see what’s what, we end up with a shoot the messenger situation. I’m worried about him and want to strangle him, all at the same time. I’ll let him complain to you for a change. Write What You Know I’ve heard ’em say, “Write what you know” OK, I’ll give it a go: My ingrown toenail, let’s start there A daily source of my despair …