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, …

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 …

The poet laureate of Mahoosuc Mills strikes again, and who could blame him. If Shakespeare had had the pleasure of partaking in one of Babes 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 …

Boy, I’ll tell ya, things are always changing down to the transfer station! So much so, it’s hard to keep it all straight, one week to another. They take #1 and #2 plastic, but #5? One week yes, the next week no. Keep the plastic caps on the bottles? No, now you’re supposed to take ‘em off and put ‘em over there. I secretly wonder if, late at night, they don’t have a good laugh at our expense, as they mix all the recycling together and toss it into the compactor. Pretty cynical, I know, but the thought has crossed my mind. Oh, it’s just too much rigmarole for me. But Charlie, thank God, he …