So a couple weeks before Christmas, I’m doing a book signing at the Kittery Trading Post (always nice to head south during the winter). Across from me was Santa and Mrs. Claus. She looked harmless enough, but frankly, I think Santa might have been in witness protection. Those kids waiting to get their photo taken were some cute, all dressed up and a few in their pajamas. My favorites were those children that were fine until you put them in Mrs. Claus’ lap, then they’d start to cry. Then the parents would try to calm them down, all the while getting more and more stressed out because they’re so invested in getting the perfect picture. …

What’s your favorite day of the year? Want to know mine? January second. That’s right: the holidays are behind us, days are getting longer, and it’s time to settle in for a long winter’s nap. Don’t get me wrong now, I love the holiday season. I really do. But you can have too much of a good thing. And doesn’t the month of December seem to be, well, kind of bloated? I mean, too much shopping, too much wrapping paper, too many parties, too much food and drink, and way too many fitful nights remembering that old Alka-Seltzer commercial. You know the one I mean. “I can’t believe I ate the whole thing!” Well, I …

Phew! Only one more holiday to go! But New Years is kid’s stuff compared to the Big Enchilada: Christmas. What a production! I feel like a Mack truck hit me, but, you know, in a good sort of way. I wish I could be more relaxed about these things; having the house clean and not getting so caught up in making everything just right. But at this point, it’s kind of hard to change. My sister Irene’s the same way. Tidiness was passed down to us from our mother, who got it from her mother. It’s worth all the hard work, though, seeing the family gathered ‘round, talking and eating and laughing, and eating some …

We’re coming down the home stretch now, and none too soon. Being under the weather put me behind the eight ball on my holiday to do list. That makes me stressed out, and when I get that way, real food stops appealing to me. I just want to eat sugary stuff. That is a recipe for disaster, as my husband Charlie so nicely let me know in this lovely poem about the joy of the holiday season.   Just Get Outta Her Way Now that the lights are on the house My concern is for my spouse ‘Cause every Christmas, it repeats: “Over committed, too many sweets”  Last weekend, Ida was the star Of St. …

Just a short one today because I have bronchitis and a sinus infection and Charlie has a cold. Merry Christmas! You know the dueling banjos theme from that movie, “Deliverance,” I think? Come sundown, that’s what it’s like at our house, only substitute coughing for the banjos. I did prednisone and then went on a antibiotic, but this ickiness is lingering. That’s because the real prescription is rest, and that’s hard to do, especially at this time of year. But, I’m trying. I’m making an effort to get to bed between 8:00 and 9:00. Plus, I’ve eliminated as many obligations as I can, and am only doing the fun stuff. It’s kind of liberating, really. …

The holiday spirit is upon us! Mahoosuc Mills is getting ready for the Down Home Holiday Festival next weekend, and they just put up the tree down to Town Hall, the one with stars on it. On each star is a request for a present from a kid in town. You know, a kid whose family needs a little help. Some of them will just break your heart: a Barbie doll, Play Dough, a new winter hat and mittens. I mean, these kids have nothing. Anyone can go down there, take a star, buy the present, wrap it and drop it back to the Town Hall. If there are any stars left over, the Knights …

The longer I’m married, the more I realize sometimes Charlie and me just have a completely different way of looking at things. Not the big things, of course. We’re on the same page there. But, you know, it’s those little things he does over and over again that can just irritate the crap of of me. And vice versa. Charlie was inspired to write a little diddy about one such thing. Half-a-Banana Man First thing this morning, I reach in the bowl Grabbed the one banana, I can’t eat it whole, so I took about half, put the other half back Boy, did I ever get flack! I like to start my day before I …

Thanksgiving was my mother’s favorite holiday, and I come this time of year, I sure do miss her. Holidays are hard when someone you love is no longer here. But every time I get to feeling sad, I know it’s a reminder of how lucky I am to have had such a wonderful woman in my life. I try to hold onto that lucky feeling. It takes the edge off my sad. Let’s talk turkey. Here’s a little section from my book, Finding Your Inner Moose that has to do with the upcoming holday. I have great memories of Thanksgiving, and most of them involve my mother in an apron, doing just about everything. My …

Most women are more loyal to their hairdresser than they are to their gynecologist. I’ve been going to Pasty down to Hair Affair every Saturday morning since Moby Dick was a minnow. For the record, Patsy is a good solid hairdresser. Sure, occasionally she gets a little distracted and I’m forced to do a “Hairdresser Smackdown,” but all in all, she’s a keeper. As a rule, Charlie doesn’t fuss much with his hair, or what’s left of it anyway. He’d been going to the barber shop downtown forever. But when Alfie Pinette retired, no one stepped in to take his place. So, Charlie’s started dropping into Ol’ Yankee Clippers in Dover-Foxcroft whenever he’s over there …

Got together with the Women Who Run With the Moose last week for our usual girls night. Dottie was hosting. The menu consisted of a big salad, mac and cheese, and for dessert leftover Halloween candy (We had a ton of it!), and Pumpkin Spice Martinis. Yowza! Have you noticed that kids just don’t trick or treat like they used to? Well, it’s probably hard to wear a helmet with a mask on. ‘Cause kids nowadays seem to do everything with a helmet on, don’t they? Shirley made one of them kitty litter cakes for her Halloween party at work. What a hoot! You ever seen one? Well, check out Shirley’s picture. Anyways, it’s this …