Charlie and me are all set for Halloween tomorrow night. I bought a bunch of candy, ate it, bought some more, and you guessed it. Now I’m candied out, so I took the leftover candy and donated to the Community Center for their Halloween party. Who am I kidding? There was no leftover candy. I had to buy more candy and drive directly to the Community Center, do not pass go, do not, under any circumstances, rip open that plastic bag. There was a moment where I thought they were going to have to pry that candy out of my hands, but I manage to let it go and run from the building all the …

October, my season of terror. Days are getting shorter, leaves piling up in the yard, frost on the pumpkin. But that’s not the problem. What’s plaguing me is what plagues me every October: the advent of them miniature candy bars. Snickers, Milky Ways, Butterfingers, they’re like crack cocaine to me. ‘Cause candy is love, baby, and I want me some love!   Ida, I say to myself, don’t buy them until Halloween Day. And I start out strong, I really do. But then, oh-oh, there’s a bowl of candy corn at book group, or a bunch of small boxes on the counter at the dry cleaners. Or I’m at a birthday party where they’re serving chocolate …

Charlie wrote this poem a couple of weeks ago, and I’m just getting around to sharing it with you. I’ve been wicked busy with my new show. Having a blast with it! But now I’m back down to business. I gotta say, I’m with Charlie on this one. I swear, I saw Halloween stuff out in some stores at the end of August. There ought to be a law! Home Depot: September 21 Look at the trees, they’re starting to turn And for cool sleepin’ weather, I no longer yearn September is here, but I find it queer To see pumpkins for sale at Home Depot Pallets of pumpkins in front of the store Are …

Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, and so I thought shine the spotlight on my sweetheart in this week’s blog. Charlie and me have been together for over forty years, and he can still surprise me. Like when he started writing poetry. One day he saw a blue tarp stuck a tree, and the next thing you know, he’s the the default poet laureate of Mahoosuc Mills. Here’s that first poem, the one that started it all. Blue Tarp in a Tree Drivin’ along, what did I see? A big, blue tarp, up in a tree How did it get there? I thought to myself That’s not the work of some mischievous elf It was right around Whitey’s, …

There’s a rumor going ‘round that in Maine, it’s illegal to have your Christmas decorations up after January 14th, and you could be fined for doing so. I checked it out on the internet, and I found it on more than one site (there are several) dedicated to “dumb laws.” But then I saw an article from the Portland Press Herald that came out a few years back and they said it’s not really true. Frankly, I was very disappointed. If you keep up with my blog, you know I can get a real bee in my bonnet about this issue. January’s one long, cold month here in the north country, and we need all …

So a couple weeks before Christmas, I’m doing a book signing at the Kittery Trading Post (always nice to head south during the winter). Across from me was Santa and Mrs. Claus. She looked harmless enough, but frankly, I think Santa might have been in witness protection. Those kids waiting to get their photo taken were some cute, all dressed up and a few in their pajamas. My favorites were those children that were fine until you put them in Mrs. Claus’ lap, then they’d start to cry. Then the parents would try to calm them down, all the while getting more and more stressed out because they’re so invested in getting the perfect picture. …

What’s your favorite day of the year? Want to know mine? January second. That’s right: the holidays are behind us, days are getting longer, and it’s time to settle in for a long winter’s nap. Don’t get me wrong now, I love the holiday season. I really do. But you can have too much of a good thing. And doesn’t the month of December seem to be, well, kind of bloated? I mean, too much shopping, too much wrapping paper, too many parties, too much food and drink, and way too many fitful nights remembering that old Alka-Seltzer commercial. You know the one I mean. “I can’t believe I ate the whole thing!” Well, I …

Phew! Only one more holiday to go! But New Years is kid’s stuff compared to the Big Enchilada: Christmas. What a production! I feel like a Mack truck hit me, but, you know, in a good sort of way. I wish I could be more relaxed about these things; having the house clean and not getting so caught up in making everything just right. But at this point, it’s kind of hard to change. My sister Irene’s the same way. Tidiness was passed down to us from our mother, who got it from her mother. It’s worth all the hard work, though, seeing the family gathered ‘round, talking and eating and laughing, and eating some …

We’re coming down the home stretch now, and none too soon. Being under the weather put me behind the eight ball on my holiday to do list. That makes me stressed out, and when I get that way, real food stops appealing to me. I just want to eat sugary stuff. That is a recipe for disaster, as my husband Charlie so nicely let me know in this lovely poem about the joy of the holiday season.   Just Get Outta Her Way Now that the lights are on the house My concern is for my spouse ‘Cause every Christmas, it repeats: “Over committed, too many sweets”  Last weekend, Ida was the star Of St. …

Just a short one today because I have bronchitis and a sinus infection and Charlie has a cold. Merry Christmas! You know the dueling banjos theme from that movie, “Deliverance,” I think? Come sundown, that’s what it’s like at our house, only substitute coughing for the banjos. I did prednisone and then went on a antibiotic, but this ickiness is lingering. That’s because the real prescription is rest, and that’s hard to do, especially at this time of year. But, I’m trying. I’m making an effort to get to bed between 8:00 and 9:00. Plus, I’ve eliminated as many obligations as I can, and am only doing the fun stuff. It’s kind of liberating, really. …