Drivin’ along, what did I see? A big, blue tarp, up in a tree How did it get there? I thought to myself That’s not the work of some mischievous elf It was right around Whitey’s, yard sale heaven Where there’s always one goin’, 24-7 The tarp must’ve blown off their table, I betcha Perhaps Whitey Junior can climb up and get ya His father, I’m sure, will just let the thing be And Junior’s too fat to be climbin’ that tree I guess I could help ‘em to get the thing down But right now I’m busy, see you around! Now, who do you think’s responsible for that little nugget? William Shakespeare? Nope. Me? …

You know how we tend to confide in our hairdresser or bartender? As a cashier down to the A&P, folks tend to confide in me, too, even if they don’t always know they’re doin’ it. ‘Cause checkin’ out a person’s groceries is more intimate than you image. You know who’s drinkin’ a little too much, who has a Doritos habit and who’s addicted to the National Inquirer. You see the same folks once a week, minimum, and you can kind of sense whether they’re feelin’ their oats or not. So I’m workin’ register 3 per usual, cashin’ out Roberta “Bobbie” Robbins, makin’ conversation, like you do. “How’s that cute little dog of yours? Blah, blah. …

Up ‘til the economy tanked, “staycation” wasn’t even a word. There’s a reason for that. See how only half the word resembles “vacation”? That’s a hint as to the outcome of most staycations. At best, they’re kind of like a vacation. At worse, they’re more like a week spent in the Gulag. Charlie and me learned this the hard way a few years back. We’d never taken a staycation, so we thought we’d give it a try. We even made a plan, well kind of. We’d scrape and repaint the deck the first weekend, ‘cause it needed it wicked bad. Then we’d spend the rest of the week doin’ little day trips, you know, makin’ …

“What are you makin’?” asks Charlie. “An apple pie,” I reply. “Mmm! For me?” “No, not just for you! For all of us. Tonight.” “What’s goin’ on tonight?” “We’re having dinner, remember? With Irene and Jimbo?” “We are? When did this come up?” “A couple of weeks ago. I told you!” “News to me.” “No, it’s not. Where’s your calendar?” Charlie pulls out his dog-eared pocket calendar. “I know it’s in there, Charlie. I remember watchin’ you as you scribbled it in. Probably can’t read your own handwriting.” Charlie fumbles through it. “Oh. Yeah. Guess I should look at it every now and then.” “Might be helpful. Anyhoo, if you want pie, that’s what we’re …

A good relationship is like your favorite whoopie pie, you know? Sweet, simple and easy. Thing is, what happens when your bakery runs out of the kind of whoopie pie you’ve been enjoyin’ for years? Well, a different flavor can still be good, especially if you’re realistic about your expectations.   There’s this gal, Doris, in my book group. She lost her husband Mike a few years back, and just last fall, she started dippin’ her toe back into the datin’ pool. Boy, that can’t have been easy. But now she’s seeing a nice fella, Gerry, that she met at church. I run into her the other day down to the Busy Bee. “The weird …

As you may already know, back in Mahoosuc Mills, I hang out with the greatest group of gals. The Women Who Run With the Moose we call ourselves: Celeste, Rita, Betty, Dot, Shirley and me. Heck, we’ve been close since even before Charlie and me started datin’, so that back a ways. We’ve gone through good times and bad together, and I’ve still got the bridesmaids dresses to prove it. If you were in any doubt, bridesmaids dresses attest to the fact that one style is not flattering on all body types, and there are some colors you should never wear, ever. Trust me. I got around that by dressin’ my bridesmaids in different color …

You can’t help but think about it. Unless the two of you are in a plane crash or something, chances are, one of you is gonna be the last one standing. And, if you’re like me, you don’t know which is worse: dyin’ first, and makin’ your husband go through that trauma, or him goin’ first and bein’ left all by your lonesome to pick up the pieces. Good thing it’s outta our hands, right? There’s other kinds of leavin’, too, of course. I know from watchin’ my mom go through her cancer journey, your loved one can still be here sittin’ with you, but you’re actively missin’ the healthy person they once were. Same …

Bud’s the first of our little group to retire. Worked for Gagne’s & Sons Heating and Cooling for what? Thirty plus years, I guess. That’s dirty work, repairing furnaces and the like. Plus, you get called out at all hours, day and night. Weekends, too, don’t matter the weather. And unless you’re doing an annual cleaning, the people you’re dealing with are usually real upset. I mean, it’s ten degrees out, and no heat. They’re all bundled up, seein’ their breath inside the house, and Bud’s gotta be the one who tells ‘em their furnance is shot. No fun. Once he hit sixty-five, Bud was outta there. When he started talkin’ about retiring, I says …

I remember when I first brought the subject up to Charlie. Boy, I hadn’t seen that level of enthusiasm since I told him we were goin’ on the Cabbage Soup Diet. “Geez Louise, Ida. Tell me you’re not serious.” “I am, Charlie, and I’m not takin’ no for an answer. We need to get our papers in order and discuss what we each want if something happens.” “Nothin’s gonna happen.” “Charlie, something happens every time you go out with the boys. Need I remind you of the time…” “No, no, I don’t need remindin’!” “Well, this is what I want for my birthday. Along with all the other stuff you were gonna get me!” That …

Celeste, Rita, Betty, Dot, Shirley and me got together for our girls night out last week, per usual. Betty was hostin’ and she whipped up a batch of her Marvelous Marcel Bars. Oh, to die for! I mean, what’s not to like about something that’s made with not only an entire bag of chocolate chips, but a bag of peanut butter chips, too. After wolfin’ down one with a white wine chaser, Shirley goes, “Thanks, Betty. I needed that.” “Tough day?” I ask. “Not one of Mini’s better ones.” Mini is Shirley’s mom. Lives in the mother-in-law apartment Junior attached to he and Shirley’s house. Shirley’s one of five and the only girl, so you …