I spent a little over $80 on lipstick. Really! And I’m over the moon happy about it, too! See, I’ve been wearing the same shade of lipstick for years: “Berry Nice.” (Who comes up with these names, anyways?) It’s the perfect shade of lipstick for me: not too red, not too orange, not too pink. It’s just, well, Berry Nice! Oh, I’ve experimented with other colors over the years, but they never quite measure up. They might look like a good option in the store, but when I get the lipstick home and try it on for real: disaster! I either look washed out, or my skin seems kind of sallow. Or the color’s too …

As you get older, things are not always as you remember ‘em. If you remember ‘em at all! That was the topic of conversation last week when the Women Who Run With the Moose got together for our regular girls night out. Betty was hosting, and she was serving these watermelon margaritas, which, to be honest, are kind of an acquired taste. Luckily, after half a glass, you don’t really care! Plus, they’re garnished with melon balls, so they qualify as a fruit, right? Celeste says, “Remember how I told you that Bud and me were thinking about buying a couple of bikes? You know, it was something we used to do as teenagers, ride …

We had to say goodbye to Cora two weeks ago tomorrow. Turns out she was ours for just two years. What a sweet, little love bug, and every minute with her was worth all the sadness we’re feeling now. Charlie and me were hoping we’d have her longer. Cora would have been thirteen in August, so not that old for a small dog. But see, she got cancer, and about six months ago we knew it was only a matter of time. Cora died as she lived, with grace, dignity and love. She went downhill quickly, and there was no question it was time. Wanting to please us right ’til the end, like dogs do. …

Charlie come up with a doozy this week, an anthem of sorts. It’s part confession, part bragging, and not a word of it is true. Right! Think: semi-truck with a cracked muffler.  I Snore I snore, I know Everyone has told me so I sputter, I snort Not a very glowing report I tried elevatin’ Our old box spring Squirt something up my nose But it doesn’t do a thing I snore, so what? I wish that I could keep my mouth shut But I can’t, I’ve tried Even though I sleep on my side I wake up all alone My wife got up at four She fled to the couch Couldn’t take it anymore …

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, seeing their breath inside the house, and Bud’s gotta be the one who tells ‘em their furnace is shot. No fun. Once he hit sixty-five, Bud was outta there. When he started talking about retiring, I says …

The title says it all. Don’t read this while you’re eating. In fact, if you’re a tad squeamish, give this one a miss. You’ve been warned. As we get older, our bodies change and our bodily functions can get funky. Women are used to enduring all manner of embarrassing stuff when it comes to our bodies. Men, not so much. So, when the you-know-what hits the fan (so to speak), it can shake a guy up. I’ll let Charlie tell you all about it. You’re welcome. She Does the Laundry While my wife does the laundry As best as she can I’ve been pushing the limits Of what she can stand “Have you got a …

What to wear? What to have for dinner? God, I’m tired of making decisions! What time do we have to leave for the potluck? What should I make for the potluck, and when do I put it in the oven so it’s still warm when it gets there, but not too hot to handle? Sometimes, I think if I have to make another decision, my head will explode! Part of being a grownup is making decisions, of course. It kind of comes with the territory. Ever wonder why kids have more energy than we do? Stuff’s decided for ‘em! I think that’s why people hide out in monasteries and ashrams (or whatever they’re called). It’s …

After a certain age, your body changes. You and I know this to be true. The fat in your butt inches it’s way ‘round your stomach. That extra plumpness that was keeping your breast perky has headed south for the duration, taking up permanent residence on your inner thighs. Your hair migrates from where you want it to someplace else, where you don’t. Then there’s the feet. Women, like me, tend to get bunions caused by shoes that are too tight, too narrow or too high. In short, they’re cute, but impractical. Hey, you have to suffer to be beautiful, right? Men get what Charlie and his friends call “old man feet.” I don’t even …

One day a while back, I was at the Rite Aid picking up a few things. Seems like I’m in there every other day. I mean, if they didn’t see me for a week, they’d probably send me a get well card. Anyhoo, I have a little list of things to get, and on that list, second from the bottom, was “L-Glutamine.” Yes, I thought, that’s definitely my handwriting. But I had no recollection whatsoever of writing it, and no idea what the hell it does. I must have read about L-Glutamine somewhere in a magazine and thought it would be good for me, so I bought it. When I got home, I searched through …

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 …