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 …

April nor’easter! Now, there’s two words that should never be used together in a sentence. It’s unnatural, but not unexpected. We’ve had such an easy winter here in Maine, we got lolled into taking our snow tires off and putting away the shovels, scoops, and roof rakes. But, Mother Nature had other ideas. What a kick in the pants! But, us Mainers hardy. We do what needs to be done to put things back in order. We bounce back, like the crocus and daffodils, all of us looking for the sun. Charlie had some cleaning up to do in the yard, as you can imagine. I’ll let him tell you about it.  Such Is April …

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 …

Hard to tell what goes on in other people’s marriages, but sometimes you wonder. Can’t help it. There’s this couple from away that Charlie and me see when we’re out and about. They’ve only been in town a couple of years. We don’t know them and I haven’t been able to dig up much info. I think they pretty much keep themselves to themselves. Charlie and me have nicknamed them Fred and Ethel. About the only time we see them is when they’re out walking or riding their bikes. We’ve never once had just a Fred or just an Ethel sighting. Nope, it’s Fred and Ethel together, and Fred is always smiling. Ethel is friendly …

On our morning walk around our neighborhood, Charlie and me see lots of birds: sparrow, blue jays, crows, chickadees, of course, a few hawks and even a robin or two. Canada geese, in season. But every once and awhile we’ll see a Pileated Woodpecker. Not one of them little guys, but the Woody Woodpecker ones. That’s always a treat because they are spectacular looking. I mean, that red! The Pileated is a big bird and, boy, it makes a racket hammering away. You think they’d be easy to see, but they’re not. Most of the time you hear them, but can’t find where they are. Charlie and me must look like idiots, stopped in the …

Ladies, you know how you can ask, then bug and, I’ll admit it, nag your husband to do something? Then all of a sudden, he does it at the least convenient time possible! Like when the hand towel rack in our guest bath had gotten kind of rickety and I put it on Charlie’s honey do list. There it stayed for, oh, six months. Then on the day I’m hosting my book group’s annual cookie swap, Charlie decides to fix it. Seriously! And of course, it’s not an easy tighten a screw solution. No siree bob, we’re talking drilling, and patching holes and maybe a little touch up paint and why move the throw rug …

We all know I love Christmas, there’s not double about that. But sometimes you can have too much of a good thing. ‘Course it would help if stores didn’t start putting out their Christmas stuff before Halloween. I say, let Tom Turkey have his day. No decorations up before Thanksgiving. That way it stays special. Still, my holiday spirit is shining bright. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for Charlie. He’s not as big on Christmas as I am to begin with. I know, that’s hard to believe. Sure, he had fun playing Santa at the Down Home Holiday Festival a couple weekends ago. But right now, he’s run outta ho, ho, ho’s. He’ll rally …

“Charlie, a hoodie’s like cargo pants, only for your top half.” By the look on Charlie’s face I realized I’d said that out loud. To be fair, it was the day after my Covid booster, and I was feeling a little under the weather. My true feelings just come out. I hate Charlie’s hoodie! It’s okay working around the yard or going to the transfer station or Agway. Fine. But not when we go out to breakfast or a bean supper. I’d tried being subtle, but Charlie wasn’t picking up on my hints. We’ll be going down to the Brew Ha Ha for a bite to eat, and I go, “How about putting on that …

Part of a happy marriage, in my opinion, is knowing what you’re good at and doing it. I’m a big fan of division of labor. Forcing Charlie to clean the house with me would be hell for both of us. And truth be told, I have no interest in going to the dump, mowing the lawn, or (God forbid!) snow blowing. We’ve just kind of negotiated and specialized over the years, and now we’re in a rhythm with it. Here’s Charlie’s take on this. I Do the Dishes Our kitchen is tiny There’s no room for two So when Ida’s cooking She tells me to shoo Me in the way Is not what she wishes …

Putting stuff you don’t need or want in your yard with a “Free” sign on it is a useful idea. One person’s trash is another’s treasure, right? Works best if you put it out on a Saturday morning when folks are driving around, running errands. If no one snatches it up by nightfall, put it in the shed and try again the next day. But here’s the deal: if it’s still there by the end of Sunday, nobody is going to take it. Nobody! You tried and now you have to do the right thing. Bring it to Goodwill or the dump. Donate it to Restore. I don’t care. But for the love of God, …