I can’t believe it’s Labor Day already! This summer flew by didn’t it? When the mums arrived at the A&P a few weeks ago, I thought, too soon. Summer has just begun. The older I get, the more time plays tricks on me. It’s like I’m livin’ in a time warp, you know, some crap episode of Star Trek, where time slows down when I wish it’d go faster, and speeds up when I want to linger. Here’s what I mean: I’m getting my teeth cleaned, right? And the hygienist is doing that part where they poke around at your gums. I’m staring into the light just past her head, trying to go to my …

Rose Thibideau got out of rehab last week. Not your Betty Ford kind of rehab. I’m talking about the rehab wing of Mahoosuc Green, the Senior Living Facility where my Dad is. He’s not in the rehab section, though. Dad moved in there a few years after our mother died. He has the cutest little apartment. Anyways, Rose Thibideau’s children tried to get her to move into Mahoosuc Green, but she wasn’t budging. She was Eighty-nine and still living at home until she took a tumble, breaking one wrist and spraining the other. I don’t know how long she was lying on the floor before her daughter Clair found her. Of her seven kids, only …

It’s been a year since our neighbor, Vincent DiSalvo died. His wife Sarah had an open house on Sunday afternoon to mark the occasion. She’s doing pretty good, considering. A bunch of people showed up and it was a nice get-together. Folks told stories about Vinnie, of course. What a great guy he was. How he could fix anything. Never charged for it, either, though he wouldn’t say no to a meal. And dessert? He’d always ask for seconds. Vinnie touched a lot of lives, and Mahoosuc Mills misses him. But, like in a lot of small towns, we take care of our own, and some have stepped up to the plate. Charlie’s one of …

Tomorrow will be the thirty-ninth anniversary of the passing of Elvis, and I still miss him. I know it sounds kind of old-fashioned, and I’ve heard that his popularity is waning. But for folks my age, the King is part of our youth.  I remember watching him sing “Hound Dog” on the Ed Sullivan show, and it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. The hair, the moves, that smile, and most of all that twinkle in his eye. I look at the clips on YouTube now, and it’s clear he’s having the time of his life. I can see that little bit of him, anyways, doesn’t really care. He’s just goofing around. “All Shook …

Come summer, a trip to the Dairy Queen can improve your day no end. That refreshing iced milk can calm you down or cheer you up. It’s a perfect way to celebrate winning a softball game or mend a broken heart. But here’s the thing. Up north where we live, you have to be careful driving down country roads after dark because of the wildlife. And I’m not talking about the Purdy brothers on their way home from tying one on down to the Brew Ha Ha. I’m refer to animals jay-walking across the road. I mean, they don’t seem to pay any attention whatsoever to the Deer or Moose Crossing signs. We even eliminated …

You ever take a vacation, come home and think, It’s just not worth it? You’re out there getting all rested up, having a great time with your husband, eating good food, joking around. Then you get home, and wham! Zero to 60: doing laundry, returning emails, menu planning, grocery shopping and trying to resuscitate the hanging plant outside the front door. Oh, and apparently the power went out while you were gone, and all the clocks need to be reset. Phew! That’s what happened to me this weekend when Charlie and me got back from our little vacation. We took a leisurely drive up the coast, junktiquing and eating lobster rolls, fried clams and onion …

Wow! Hasn’t the weather been wonderful so far this summer? Of course, there’s always those who complain. They see it as their civic duty. It’s too hot, too humid, not enough rain, too much rain. And sometimes, sure, the weather does leave a little to be desired. Then, there are days that are just picture perfect. Our friend Johnny T calls them “a bluebird of a day.” Charlie was so taken with that idea, he wrote a poem about it. A Bluebird of a Day From the western hills last night A rumblin’ did come The rain we’ve needed finally fell We closed the windows some By morning, all that humid air Had up and …

Our pig died. Well, jeez, we’d only had it since the ‘70s. I’d say we got our money’s worth. I’m not talking about a real pig, of course. “Pig” is what we call garbage disposals in this neck of the woods. So off we go to Bangor. They had way too many garbage disposals to chose from at Sears, but this fast talking sales fella, Wayne, easily answered all our questions. “Does this one come with everything we need to install it?” Charlie asks. “Oh, yes,” Wayne assures us. “Everything you need is right in the box.” You can guess where I’m going with this one, right? But stay with me, here. First, I’ve got …

Charlie and me were out for a Sunday drive, and happened to pass Agnes Brown’s place out on Duck Pond Road. “Slow down, Charlie. Look, Aggie’s got ladders up!” “Ida, them ladders been up over a year.” “No!” “Seen them there last winter, under a foot of snow.” “There should be a law! You are not allowed begin another home improvement project ‘til you’ve finished the last one.” “Or in Aggie’s case, the last ten or twenty projects.” “Wow! What a way to live!” “One year, Ida, I kid you not, I think she put up one shingle.” “Come on!” “Really. Billy Pritchard told me. He lives in the grey house over there. Keeps an …

So I’m working at the A&P on Thursday, when I overhear a conversation between Amy Plourde and Stephanie Jackson that went something like this: “How’d your yard sale go last weekend?” Amy asks. “What a waste of time!” Stephanie replies. “First, we spend all day Friday getting ready. Then, we get up at the crack of dawn on Saturday and haul it out to the driveway, while people with big vans and pick-ups cruise back and forth like sharks, waiting for us to set up.” “Early birds!” “Yeah, a lot of ‘em dealers! When they finally park and get out of their trucks, (leaving them running, mind you), they strut around like crows, picking stuff …