Boy, I’ll tell ya, things are always changing down to the transfer station! So much so, it’s hard to keep it all straight, one week to another. They take #1 and #2 plastic, but #5? One week yes, the next week no. Keep the plastic caps on the bottles? No, now you’re supposed to take ‘em off and put ‘em over there. I secretly wonder if, late at night, they don’t have a good laugh at our expense, as they mix all the recycling together and toss it into the compactor. Pretty cynical, I know, but the thought has crossed my mind. Oh, it’s just too much rigmarole for me. But Charlie, thank God, he …

In my book, The Sweet Life, I have a whole chapter devoted to sex. Hey, it’s a book about love and marriage, so it had to be done. Doesn’t quite have the same pizzazz as when we were younger, but it’s not half bad. I’m no Dr. Ruth (I’m short, but not that short), but bottom line: I’m a firm believer in doing whatever you need to do in order to do it. I’ll spare you the details. Oh, and fantasize all you want about whoever you want, but just don’t act on it. My friend Rita learned this the hard way. Rita works down to Smitty’s Hardware, which is owned by her husband, Smitty. …

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 …

Charlie’s latest brings to mind so many thoughts. Take a gander, then I’ll share ‘em with you. Look Up and Be Proud Grandpa once told me “Look up and be proud! Distinguishable From the rest of the crowd” But each time I did, Wouldn’t you know, I’d stumble or trip Over something below A rake or a pail Or the root of a tree A crusty old dog That I didn’t see There’s always some obstacle Down on the ground That is the reason I’ve always looked down My posture, I know, Has taken a hit Best thing for me? Find somewhere to sit Where I’m out of range Of things I could trip on …

I had the pleasure of sitting beside Snowdell Holden’s sister, Trudy, at the bean supper Saturday night. Trudy lives in Portland, but spends the summer up to her camp on Scoodic Lake. She’d driven over for the weekend. Like Snowdell, Trudy’s a pistol. Just turned 89, and doesn’t look a day over 79, which is quite a compliment when you’re pushing 90. Over beans, biscuits, cole slaw, hot dogs, not to mention the mac and cheese that somehow wandered onto my plate, we got to talking about Trudy’s life, like you do. Trudy’s a retired nurse, mother of five with eleven grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. She’s been a widow for going on twenty years now. …

I love food. No secret about that. I love eating it, of course, but I also like looking at pictures of food in magazines,  cookbooks, Facebook, Pinterest, billboards, you name it. I call this food porn. You know what I’m talking about! In my humble opinion, food always tastes best when you didn’t cook it yourself. What makes book group fun? The books? No. The idle chit chat? Maybe. But where’s the food? Then there’s going out to eat. What’s not to like about that? First off, you got your cocktails and bread basket, and if you’re lucky, some herbed butter. Or in an Italian restaurant: focaccia and olive oil. Then you get to pour …

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 …

Spoiler alert: I’m going to tell you the whole plot of this flick, so if you plan on seeing it, you may want to skip this post. The Women Who Run With the Moose (me and my friends Celeste, Rita, Betty, Dot and Shirley) went to see the Barbie movie over the weekend. Since you’re reading this blog, this is probably no a surprise to you. Goes without saying, we all wore pink. Easy for me, as pink’s in my color wheel and I have quite a bit of it in my closet. But it was a stretch for Shirley. She’s more of a purple kind of gal. Oddly, the guys expressed no interest in …

Poison Ivy I should have known better Than to mess with that vine Encircling the trunk Of our rugged old pine Snaking its way To the branches it goes Its leaves, you better Be wary of those! I should have known better Than to trim those leaves My arms were bare From my gloves to my sleeves As I sawed a dead branch Right off of that tree That vine began working Its magic on me Ivy, oh ivy That darn poison ivy All over my arms And legs, egad! I got me a case And I got it bad! Late that night Started itching alot Calamine lotion? It didn’t do squat Hopped in the …

It’s that time of year again where squirrels and drivers do si do. You have to keep an eagle eye out because an excited squirrel and a distracted driver is not a good combo. Not for the squirrel, certainly, but not you, either. Remember back in 2018 (I looked it up) where it was crazy how many dead squirrels were on the road? I guess there was a bumper crop of acorns the year before, so there were more little squirrels that year. All the young squirrels were leaving the nest about the same time, and apparently they weren’t taught to look both ways before crossing the road. This year’s squirrel population seems about normal, …