Have you ever been driving around, pass a house and think, I wonder if they’re having a yard sale, or if that’s just how they live. Or someone walks by you at the mall and you’re like, Geez, Louise, are they wearing perfume or is that bug dope. There are entire days where I just wonder around in my head. I wonder what I’ll make for supper. I wonder if I have time to clean to bathroom before I leave for work. I see a dog with their head stuck out of a car window, wind whipping and I wonder what they’re thinking. When I wonder what Charlie’s thinking, I’ll ask him and more often …

During the summer, when I’d find myself talking to someone with the sniffles, and I’d ask, “Are you sick?” “No, it’s just allergies. They’re wicked bad this year.” And I’d breathe a sigh of relief, because you know what? I don’t have time to get sick. I mean, who does? But now we’re heading into the fall, my friends, and that means cold and flu season will be here before you know it. Throw in Covid, RSV and whatever new creeping crud is on the horizon, we need to be considerate of others. I’m begging you, if you’re sick, stay home! You’ll get better quicker if you take care of yourself, and you won’t be …

Alas, the end of summer is upon us. But to be honest, we’ve been feeling it up here in Mahoosuc Mills for a couple of weeks now. Though it heats up during the day, there’s a definate nip in the air, once the sun goes down. “Good sleeping weather,” Charlie calls it. In the evening, I make sure to close all the windows (except in the bedroom), so it’s not too chilly in the house, come morning. And our first shipment of mums has arrived at the A&P. I haven’t surrendered to buying any yet, but it’s only a matter of time. The Moose Megantic High football team is running drills down to the field. …

Along with this blog, I started writing a “Dear Ida” column in the Moose Megantic Gazette awhile back. I know! Wicking fun. I thought I’d share this letter with you because it’s a classic. It’s already been in the paper, but in case you missed it, here it is: Dear Ida, My wife don’t think I’m sexy no more. What do I do? Concerned in Calais Here’s what I said: Dear Concerned Who do I look like? Dr. Ruth? I’m short, but not that short! You want to know how to get your sexy back? Well, let’s see. A man vacuuming, that’s sexy. (Am I right, ladies?) A man snoring away in his Barcalounger? Mm, …

I was at my doctor’s office, talking to her about some digestive problems I’ve been having lately, and she says to me, “You know, Ida, the older you get, the more your body becomes like a nun’s.” That caught me off guard at first, but I pondered it and she kind of has a point. After a certain age, there’s just a lot less margin for error. Gotta somehow keep yourself pure. But tell me, where’s the fun in that? It seems like this happens overnight. But if you stop and think about it, you realize that’s not really true. Our bodies have been trying to get our attention, but we haven’t been taking the …

Here’s a story of misspent youth, courtesy of Charlie. Physics 101 We saw it all happen, my friend Bud and me From the booth where we sat at the ol’ Busy Bee Waiting we were, for the rest of the boys We heard, of a sudden, this terrible noise Almost as if we were hearing a fight This pickup pulled up to our one traffic light With rock music blarin’, speakers all blown And some jackass yellin’ he’s “bad to the bone” Bangin’ the beat on the side of his door Then hootin’ and hollerin’, yellin’ some more “Who is this clown?” says Bud with a frown The notorious Whitey Junior By that I mean …

So I go into Cumby’s to pick up a Cow Tail. (For those of you who’ve led a sheltered life, that’s a caramel candy.) It was a reward for .…..well, I can’t remember what right now, but I know I deserved it at the time. I just love them things! Anyhoo, behind the counter is this guy from away whose  name is Guy. That’s what it says on his name tag. I’ve seen him there before, but don’t know hardly nothing about him. See, his demeanor doesn’t exactly invite conversation. He must be about my age, I’m guessing: glasses, gray hair and mustache. Big chain around his neck that must have had a gold finish …

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 …

Charlie’s ideal outdoor temperature is about 50 to 75 degrees. More than that, he starts to droop. In heatwave like we’ve been having, he’s like a plant I forgot to water. And frankly, he can get a little cranky. Here’s the cheery poem he wrote the other day. Enjoy! Lucky Me Turkey in the road Last night Swerved to miss him Didn’t quite Then this morning, Saddened me: I ripped right through My favorite T Bananas, we got Two around And both of them Are squishy brown I thought I fixed Our kitchen faucet It still leaks I should toss it Out of gas It’s always so With just one section Left to mow My …

Me and the Dairy Queen have a love/hate relationship. All summer long I love it, and the rest of the year I take its name. Let’s just say my skinny jeans and the Peanut Buster Parfait are like Patty Duke and her cousin. They’re never seen in the same room at the same time. In the spring when the DQ opens, I start off with the Peanut Buster Parfait right out of the gate because, you know, I missed that delightful mix of vanilla soft serve, hot fudge sauce, and peanuts. It’s a sweet and salty taste sensation, and I enjoy every bite. Then I scale it back. When Charlie and me ride over to …