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 …

We’ve been having some wacky weather here in Mahoosuc Mills. A few weeks ago we had a snow storm that turned to icy rain. Then, we had a cold snap which left our driveway looking like Antarctica. Since then, we’ve been on a roller coaster ride of cold snaps and spring-like weather. So, about normal for winter in Maine, though so far, February is looking more like March. Go figure! Anyhoo, Charlie’s had a run for his money keeping the driveway up to par, making sure we don’t fall and break a hip. Yet, he did find time to write me a love poem. At first glance, I know it doesn’t look like a love …

We were hanging out with our niece Caitlin and her boyfriend, Adam, last week. It was a typical January day, cold and blustery, with an occasionally flurry thrown in for good measure. But it was warm inside, and we were having breakfast for supper. This is something we used to do all the time when we Caitlin was little and we were babysitting. French toast and bacon were on the menu. Caitlin and Adam are vegetarian, so they usually bring along some veggie bacon for me to cook up for them. Personally, I don’t get the point of veggie bacon. It just seems kind of unnatural. But we humor ‘em. Could have knock me over …

I went to see my Dad the other day. Afterwards, my sister Irene texted me. She asked, “How’s the old guy?” I answered, “Do you mean our dad, my husband, or the dog?” I told Charlie what I said, and he didn’t think my snappy remark was as funny as Irene and me did. Actually, Dad is in a little bounce right now. I think they must have gotten his blood sugar more under control. All of a sudden, he’s talking in complete sentences and is a little more with it. He’s even laughing a bit. Sure, Dad still thinks the trellis is a truck, and a typical visit is basically the same conversation three …

On New Year’s Eve day, I had an Aha moment. Yup, I’m giving Oprah a run for her money. I was working down to the A&P, wishing folks “Happy New Year,” like you do. And I thought, How many times am I gonna say “Happy New Year” in the next few weeks? It’s just something you do without thinking, right? Well, what if I put some mojo behind it? What if, when I say “Happy New Year” I do it with intention, as my niece Caitlin says. What if I really wish that person happiness in the new year, and at the same time, for myself, too. Kind of an affirmation (Caitlin, again). “I am …

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 …

The first frost of the season always takes me by surprise. I’m ready for work, right? Wouldn’t say I’m running late, but I’m not early either. I head out to the car and darn, frost on the windshield. ‘Course we haven’t put the scrappers and winter stuff in the vehicles yet. That would be too sensible. Charlie’s already left for work, and I don’t want to take time to hunt around in the shed for where he hid ‘em last spring. So, I fumble in my purse for my wallet, get out a credit card (usually Victoria’s Secret because I don’t use it that often) and proceed to scrape the window with it. I hope …