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, …

 I know I probably shouldn’t be complaining about this. I mean, just look at the temperatures in other parts of the country. Still, I can’t remember ever being this cranky hot. We’re in Maine for God sakes! It’s not supposed to be this hot for this long. We’re not equipped to handle it. It’s like when some place down south gets an inch of snow, and it puts a monkey wrench in everything. That’s what it feels like here in Mahoosuc Mills. Everybody’s discombobulated. Charlie and me have air-conditioning in our bedroom, of course, but the rest of the house never really cools down. And humid! My makeup seems to slide around on my face. …

We celebrated Dot and Tommy’s fortieth wedding anniversary over the weekend, with a big blow-out up to their camp. We had lobsters and steamers, coleslaw, macaroni salad, corn on the cob, ambrosia (I brought that) and homemade biscuits. And the desserts? Oh, Mister Man! Don’t know if I was more buzzed by the sweets or the sugar-free Jell-O shots (gotta save calories where we can)! Oh, and Junior made his famous bean hole beans. Ever had ‘em? It’s a guy thing ‘cause, you know, it involves digging a hole, filling it with old tire chains and playing around with fire for a good three hours. The woman helps out a bit,  prepping the beans, getting …

Charlie come home from work the other day, and I could tell straight off, he had some sort of bee in his bonnet. “What’s a matter?” I ask. “I’m gonna mow the lawn ‘fore supper,” he says, storming out the door and letting it slam behind him. “OK. Sounds good.” Now, in the early years of our marriage, I’d try to get Charlie to tell me what was bothering him. I’d hug him, you know, wanting to make things better. Frankly, all that did was make him feel smothered. Then, I’d end up as miffed as he was. Nowadays, I give him a wide berth, let him work through whatever it is at his own …