A mild winter in Maine? I’m all in. I’m sure we’ll get some big storms eventually, but I’m content right now with rain and the occasional light snow. 20 degrees one day and 45 the next. When I think back to my winters as a kid, it seemed like we had big piles of snow for months. Maybe the snow banks just looked bigger because I was smaller. Found this picture from the olden days. See my expression. Even then I didn’t look all that excited about snow. Charlie seems to hanker more for a real winter than me. He misses ice fishing and snowmobiling. Hard to believe he misses plowing, snow blowing, roof raking …

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 out 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 …

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 …

Charlie’s been in overdrive with his poetry, and I’m grateful for that. I’m still getting used to being back at work with my eye not being 100%. I find I’m a little more tired than usual. I think it’s because my good eye is having to work overtime because the vision in my other eye is pretty blurry and a little distorted. Still, it’s good to be easing into life and finding my new normal. I’m appreciating every minute of it, especially coming home to our little love bug, Cora, putting my feet up and kicking back with the big guy. Anyhoo, here’s Charlie’s latest. They say “move it or lose it.” I guess that’s …

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 a 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 …

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 …

Early Saturday morning, dog walked, I’m in the yard dead heading my leggy petunias. All of a sudden, I hear a commotion coming from behind our shed. Going to investigate, I turn the corner and see a flash of orangey brown fur and wings flapping. Took a sec to figure out it was a fox killing one of our new neighbor’s chickens. So, I start yelling and waving my arms and the fox runs off. Poor chicken’s done for. I go get a kitchen garbage bag to put it in. It was gross, let me tell you, but it had to be done. Frankly, I was glad I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. Just as I’m …

This poem was supposed to be part of last week’s blog post, but I was having a hard time to get through it without crying. Still missing the little guy like crazy, but I did better this week. So, here’s a little good-bye ditty Charlie wrote for Scamp. Bark Park in the Sky Scamp has gone, our little guy, To that great bark park in the sky Where walking’s not the daily slog And dogs can finally be a dog A park where you have just been sent To bark until your heart’s content Where every dog is runnin’ proud The place is yours, no cats allowed! At last, a land where you can be …

On February 28,  Scamp turned fourteen! Honestly, last November, when our vet told us he had a tumor on his spleen, I wondered if he’d make it past Christmas. But, darn, if he’s still hanging in there! I give him a half a pill a day. It’s an appetite stimulant, anti-naussea type thing. Without that, I don’t think he’d be eating much at all. But right now, he’s chowing down pretty good. We blast Scamp with love and give him all the treats he wants, of course. He’s earned it. Most importantly, he doesn’t seem to be in any pain. That would be a deal breaker. Scamp doesn’t run to the door when we come …

Charlie and me are at the age where we spend a lot of time thinking about the hereafter. We walk into a room and think, Now, what am I here after? (Tommy’s aunt told me that one, and boy, ain’t it the truth!) If you find yourself always losing things, routine is your friend. It’s simple. Choose a place where something is going to live, say your car keys, and always return the thing in question to it’s home base. That way, it’ll always be there when you need it. Easier said than done, right? Your cell phone rings as you’re wrestling grocery bags from the car into the house. You put everything on the …