Caitlin got back from a yoga retreat this week, and like the good niece she is, she brought a little present. “Aunt Ida,” she says. “I saw this in the gift shop at the retreat center, and I thought of you. Couldn’t resist.” What a sweetie! It wasn’t a crystal guaranteed to balance my chakras or a singing bowl or bookmark with words of wisdom that guy Rumi (is it just me, but I never seem to get what he’s driving at). No, Caitlin brought me a candy bar, one of those extra-large ones with a pretty picture on the wrapper. But this wasn’t just any candy bar. No siree Bob. It was (wait for …

So Charlie and me go to the Knights of Columbus cookout, and when we get home we have one of those couple conversations. You know the kind I mean: an eye opener. “Gee, Charlie,” I says “Celeste seemed a little stand offish to me this evening. Not quite herself. Did Bud say anything to you about it to you?” “No.” “No?” “Ida, I told you, us guys operate solely on a need to know basis.” “Well jeez, I haven’t heard from her all week. I think she must be miffed ‘cause I didn’t say anything about her new hair color last time I saw her down to the A&P.” “Ah, she probably just had a …

As you get older, things are not always as you remember ‘em. If you remember ‘em at all! That was the topic of conversation last week when the Women Who Run With the Moose got together for our regular girls night out. Betty was hosting, and she was serving these watermelon margaritas, which, to be honest, are kind of an acquired taste. Luckily, after half a glass, you don’t really care! Plus, they’re garnished with melon balls, so they qualify as a fruit, right? Celeste says, “Remember how I told you that Bud and me were thinking about buying a couple of bikes? You know, it was something we used to do as teenagers, ride …

Bud’s the first of our little group to retire. Worked for Gagne’s & Sons Heating and Cooling for what? Thirty plus years, I guess. That’s dirty work, repairing furnaces and the like. Plus, you get called out at all hours, day and night. Weekends, too, don’t matter the weather. And unless you’re doing an annual cleaning, the people you’re dealing with are usually real upset. I mean, it’s ten degrees out, and no heat. They’re all bundled up, seeing their breath inside the house, and Bud’s gotta be the one who tells ‘em their furnace is shot. No fun. Once he hit sixty-five, Bud was outta there. When he started talking about retiring, I says …

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 …

January is almost done, thank goodness. My decluttering is kind of stalled, though, because I’ve done all the easy stuff, and all that’s left are big things like tacking my craft room or the catch all closet. But, it’s hard to get motivated. Frankly, I’m kind of overwhelmed just thinking about it. Caitlin, my niece and guru for all things new age-y, says to me the other day, “Aunt Ida, some animals hyphenate for the winter. Maybe we should take our cue from them, and slow down a little. You know, enjoy it.” We were having lunch down to the Busy Bee, and I was tucking into the special of the day: baked macaroni and …

Now we’re outta quarantine, the world is opening back up for Charlie and me. Getting Covid at Christmas was like doing a “force quit” on my computer. It’s never pretty, but it does clean things up and puts them back in order. It got me off the overeating treadmill of holiday events and has given me a new found appreciation of how good it feels to feel good. Plus, I lost that pesky extra seven pounds that’s been plaguing me. How about that for a Christmas miracle? After the first two days, when I was basically in bed, it was gratitude that got me through. I mean, come on! I’m in a warm, clean house …

In my book, The Sweet Life, I have a whole chapter devoted to sex. Hey, it’s a book about love and marriage, so it had to be done. Doesn’t quite have the same pizzazz as when we were younger, but it’s not half bad. I’m no Dr. Ruth (I’m short, but not that short), but bottom line: I’m a firm believer in doing whatever you need to do in order to do it. I’ll spare you the details. Oh, and fantasize all you want about whoever you want, but just don’t act on it. My friend Rita learned this the hard way. Rita works down to Smitty’s Hardware, which is owned by her husband, Smitty. …

You know how you can look at things but not really see ‘em? This happens to me sometimes when I look in the mirror. I know how to stand so I look pretty good most of the time. Then I see a photo of me, and I’m thinking, “What happened to my neck? Who took that? Guess I’m not as cute as I thought I was.” Well, I was walking with my sister, Irene, the other day. We were strolling around the neighborhood. It’s my usual route, one I walk most every day. Anyhoo, Irene stops and goes, “Look at that sign.” “Yup,” I says. “They have an invisible fence for their dog.” “And what’s …

Today is one of my most favorite days of the year. That’s right, baby: January 2nd. Sure, I love the holidays. Who doesn’t? But like with anything sweet, you can have too much of a good thing. You know it. I know it. And my fat jeans know it. Who am I kidding? Right about now my fat jeans are dangerously close to becoming my skinny jeans. Yowzah! It’s time to put on our leggings and settle in for a long winter’s nap. After all the food, fun and festivities, it’s nice to get back to a routine. I love a routine! Some might call it a rut, sure, but not me. A routine is …