Charlie’s been enjoying this spring as much as I have. We’re both filled with energy. I’ve always wondered why folks don’t do spring cleaning in the winter when there’s nothing going on. But, you know, winter is a time for hibernating, and spring is all about getting things done. Charlie’s been working in the yard, clearing away blow down, and raking up the leaves that we got too sick of dealing with last fall. And last week, it was time to mow the lawn, a sure sign that summer is around the corner. Not surprisingly, he wrote a poem about it. First Mow of the Season First pull, mower started! That, to me, is poetry …
There’s something about spring that makes you feel hopeful, you know? It stays light later, the weather’s warmer and our clothes aren’t so cumbersome. The birds are chattering away, and every day on our walk with Scamp, Charlie and me see nature waking up. There are buds on the trees, the forsythia is in bloom, and the lawn (dare I say it) is tinged with green. After winter, the sights, sounds and smells of spring are like a balm to my soul. Exploding color: fresh, bright and unapologetic. Charlie’s feeling it, too. In fact, he wrote a poem about it. Daffodils Did you finish rakin’ leaves Last fall? Me, not at all But soon the …
Having a dog is the best! They’re all about unconditional love. And just about everything they do is they’re favorite thing. “We’re going into the other room. That’s my favorite thing!” “Time to take a nap. That’s my favorite thing!” “A treat, oh, boy! That’s my favorite thing.” “Time for a walk? Get out of town. That’s my favorite thing.” Baths are not one of Scamp’s favorite things, but running around the house like a crazy dog after is. Scamp is more attached to me than he is to Charlie. If Charlie goes out, Scamp hardly looks up. But when I leave the house, Scamp always gives me this look, like “I can’t believe you’re …
All and all, we haven’t really had that bad a winter. The brunt of it happened during one week in February. You know, the one where we had a snow storm every other day. Then we had some spring-like weather, even up here in the north country. Temperatures soared (meaning it got up in the fifties on one day) and so did our moods. What a tease ‘cause, honey, snow and single digit temps in March are just nasty! Sure it’s not going to last. But that’s what folks said about the cold I’ve just gotten over (fingers crossed). You know, the one that’s lasted for over two weeks. It’s the third one I’ve gotten …
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 in a while 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 …
Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, and so I thought shine the spotlight on my sweetheart in this week’s blog. Charlie and me have been together for over forty years, and he can still surprise me. Like when he started writing poetry. One day he saw a blue tarp stuck a tree, and the next thing you know, he’s the the default poet laureate of Mahoosuc Mills. Here’s that first poem, the one that started it all. Blue Tarp in a Tree 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, …
Facebook is good for a lot of things like funny pet videos and keeping up with your nieces and nephews. I like liking things and cheering folks on. On the down side, some people overshare. During this past election, there were quite a few folks who overshared, a lot. I found it kind of intimate, if you know what I’m saying. One of the hardest things for me on facebook are the lost pets. Oh, they just break my heart, and I scrolled past ‘em fast. Still, they stick with me. The thought of losing Scamp just makes my heart clench and my stomach turn over. I felt the same way when Charlie told me …
We’re coming down the home stretch now, and none too soon. Being under the weather put me behind the eight ball on my holiday to do list. That makes me stressed out, and when I get that way, real food stops appealing to me. I just want to eat sugary stuff. That is a recipe for disaster, as my husband Charlie so nicely let me know in this lovely poem about the joy of the holiday season. Just Get Outta Her Way Now that the lights are on the house My concern is for my spouse ‘Cause every Christmas, it repeats: “Over committed, too many sweets” Last weekend, Ida was the star Of St. …
The longer I’m married, the more I realize sometimes Charlie and me just have a completely different way of looking at things. Not the big things, of course. We’re on the same page there. But, you know, it’s those little things he does over and over again that can just irritate the crap of of me. And vice versa. Charlie was inspired to write a little diddy about one such thing. Half-a-Banana Man First thing this morning, I reach in the bowl Grabbed the one banana, I can’t eat it whole, so I took about half, put the other half back Boy, did I ever get flack! I like to start my day before I …
Most women are more loyal to their hairdresser than they are to their gynecologist. I’ve been going to Pasty down to Hair Affair every Saturday morning since Moby Dick was a minnow. For the record, Patsy is a good solid hairdresser. Sure, occasionally she gets a little distracted and I’m forced to do a “Hairdresser Smackdown,” but all in all, she’s a keeper. As a rule, Charlie doesn’t fuss much with his hair, or what’s left of it anyway. He’d been going to the barber shop downtown forever. But when Alfie Pinette retired, no one stepped in to take his place. So, Charlie’s started dropping into Ol’ Yankee Clippers in Dover-Foxcroft whenever he’s over there …