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 finally switched over my clothes. We usually get a hot snap after I pack away my summer stuff, but that don’t look like it’s going to happen this year. It always feels so good to get the closet and drawers in order. Toward the end of the season, they get a little messy, you know, with all that digging around in my fall/winter clothes for sweaters and such. I even put the flannel sheets on the bed, and have started making soup for our lunches. These are my yearly rituals that mark the changing of the season. Here’s one of Charlie’s: How’d it Get to be October? How’d it get to be October? Mowin’ …
One of the things I love most about Charlie is he sees what needs to be done and does it. No need to form a committee, and discuss it to death. No ignoring it and hope someone else will step up to the plate. (Okay, to be honest, there were a few incidents where he left a scrap of toilet paper on the roll instead of replacing it. Hey, no one’s perfect.) But all in all, my Charlie’s a doer, and that includes writing poetry about what he’s doing. Here’s the latest. Happy to Have Done My Bit Today I saw a scary sight Drivin’ back to my abode Something dark was sitting right In …
Big goings on here in Mahoosuc Mills. Some builders from up to Bangor tried to pull a fast one. They bought the old Johnson place over on Front Street, tore it down and we’re getting ready to slap up one of them McMansions, but first they decided to basically clear cut the lot, like they do. All systems were go, ‘til Esther Higgins intervened.
It’s been a year since our neighbor, Vincent DiSalvo died. His wife Sarah had an open house on Sunday afternoon to mark the occasion. She’s doing pretty good, considering. A bunch of people showed up and it was a nice get-together. Folks told stories about Vinnie, of course. What a great guy he was. How he could fix anything. Never charged for it, either, though he wouldn’t say no to a meal. And dessert? He’d always ask for seconds. Vinnie touched a lot of lives, and Mahoosuc Mills misses him. But, like in a lot of small towns, we take care of our own, and some have stepped up to the plate. Charlie’s one of …
Come summer, a trip to the Dairy Queen can improve your day no end. That refreshing iced milk can calm you down or cheer you up. It’s a perfect way to celebrate winning a softball game or mend a broken heart. But here’s the thing. Up north where we live, you have to be careful driving down country roads after dark because of the wildlife. And I’m not talking about the Purdy brothers on their way home from tying one on down to the Brew Ha Ha. I’m refer to animals jay-walking across the road. I mean, they don’t seem to pay any attention whatsoever to the Deer or Moose Crossing signs. We even eliminated …
Wow! Hasn’t the weather been wonderful so far this summer? Of course, there’s always those who complain. They see it as their civic duty. It’s too hot, too humid, not enough rain, too much rain. And sometimes, sure, the weather does leave a little to be desired. Then, there are days that are just picture perfect. Our friend Johnny T calls them “a bluebird of a day.” Charlie was so taken with that idea, he wrote a poem about it. A Bluebird of a Day From the western hills last night A rumblin’ did come The rain we’ve needed finally fell We closed the windows some By morning, all that humid air Had up and …
The poet laureate of Mahoosuc Mills strikes again, and who could blame him. If Shakespeare had had the pleasure of partaking in one of Babe’s homemade, fresh-from-the-oven, maple glazed donuts, I’m sure he’d have written a sonnet about it. Thankfully, Charlie stepped in to fill the gap. Here’s his latest. Maple Glazed Doughnut Down to the mill, If you punch in early, ‘Round about ten Your stomach gets squirrel-ly Someone’s elected To go, make it hasty And bring us all back Some coffee and pastry Muffins, of course, Are a popular pick And danish are usually Polished off quick The guys all have favorites They never outgrow, For me, it’s the Maple Glazed Doughnut On …
Charlie and me had a great time on Saturday night. We went to a dance down to the VFW. It was a fundraiser for the artist collective that our niece Caitlin belongs to. I don’t know exactly what an artist collective is, but she seems to have a lot of fun with it so it can’t be half bad. The band wasn’t the usual deal we’d go in for, you know rock n’ roll oldies. It was this Latin-type band up form Portland. Oh, what a cute bunch of young fellas, wicked talented and very energetic! When it come right down to it, Charlie wanted to blow the whole thing off. “I’m tired from workin’ …
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 breasts 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 …
