Division of Labor

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 …

I’m writing this on New Years Day. Charlie’s putting together a bird house he got for Christmas. He really wanted to get to it and it makes him happy, so why not? I told him, “No problem. I’ll walk Scamp this morning, and maybe we can all go out for an amble later on.” I enjoy a morning walk with the little guy. Not in the middle of a blizzard, of course. But the fact is, he gets me out lots of times when I wouldn’t bother. And amazing gifts come my way on these walks: a rosy sky at dawn with the dark silhouette of a tree’s bare branches, the smell of the outdoors …

I’m kind of embarrassed to put this out there. It’s just not the kind of thing you talk about in public. But I need some help here. I can not get the stink out of Charlie’s washcloths. I’ve googled the hell out of this one and nothing works. I’ve soaked them in vinegar which supposedly does the trick on sports bras. (Personally, I only have a passing acquaintance with sports bras seeing as I don’t like to work out hard enough to break a sweat.) I even tried boiling the darn things, but that was just too home on the prairie for me. I’m at the point where I’m thinking about buying a stack of …

Last Tuesday, I zip home from work, change my clothes and walk Scamp twice as long as I usually do because I’m trying to put some distance between me and all those Peanut Buster Parfaits I ate this summer. I’ve been wearing a Fitbit, and wasn’t even close to my goal of 10,000 steps a day. So I put the pedal to the metal (or the New Balance on the black top, as it were). Got home and whipped together a new healthy recipe for Pork Cacciatore (made with pork tenderloin) and served on spiralized zucchini. Of course, the recipe takes longer than it says on the instructions. Am I the slowest cook in the …

Okay, it’s Labor Day, and even though the summer flew by and I’m not ready, I’ve decided to focus on the positive. September is one of the nicest months of the year here in Maine. It’s full of clear, sunny days free of humidity, followed by those crisp nights, just perfect for snoozing. All of a sudden, the tourists have transformed from exasperated parents with their cranky, sunburned kids, to retired couples, kicking back and living the dream. And you can actually get a parking spot on Main Street! Me, I always get that back-to-business shot of energy ingrained no doubt from years of school. Years of September representing new outfits, new notebooks, and a …

I had the pleasure of sitting beside Snowdell Holden’s sister, Trudy, at the bean supper Saturday night. Trudy lives in Portland, but spends the summer up to her camp on Scoodic Lake. She’d driven over for the weekend. Like Snowdell, Trudy’s a pistol. Just turned 89, and doesn’t look a day over 79, which is quite a compliment when you’re pushing 90. Over beans, biscuits, cole slaw, hot dogs, not to mention the mac and cheese that somehow wandered onto my plate, we got to talking about Trudy’s life, like you do. Trudy’s a retired nurse, mother of five with eleven grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. She’s been a widow for going on twenty years now. …

Lawn Mower Update

Last week, I shared Charlie’s poem about our good neighbor, Gus, who was kind enough to loan Charlie his mower while ours was in the shop. The adventure continued when the part came in, but Agway didn’t have time to install it. They figured they wouldn’t get to our mower for at least a few more weeks, so Charlie thought maybe he could install it himself. They gave him a demonstration on how to do it and everything. But you know what? Charlie’s getting wise in his old age. I’ll let him tell you about it.  Keep My Name on Your List  It’s height of the season, you know how it’s goin’: About every week, …

Sister Day

The other day, I noticed I had a missed call on my iphone from my sister Irene. So, I unlock the phone, see if she left a message, when I accidentally facetime her. Oops! I hang up before she answers because it’s first thing in the morning, and frankly, I’m not exactly looking my best. You know those movies where the woman wakes up all tousled and sexy? She rolls over and looks at the guy next to her. “Hi,” he says and flashes that killer grin. And she smiles back and murmurs, “Hi.” Not high on the scale of witty comebacks, but he seems to like it because guess who’s late for work that …

The “Honey Do” List

We had a little get together to celebrate my sister Irene’s birthday last week, just the family. If you’re not going to spring clean, the next best thing is to have a party at your house. They say you should have two a year: one in the warm weather and one in cool. That way, you’re motivated to do a couple of good, deep cleanings, and get your yard in order, to boot. The yard is Charlie’s department. He’s got one of them rider mowers that he just loves. Has a little shed with a ramp he keeps it in. I plant the annuals, take care of the potted plants, do a little weeding from …

Birthday Bliss

A new gal was getting her hair done down to Hair Affair a couple weeks ago. Merry just moved to Mahoosuc Mills, and was lucky enough to get an appointment with Pasty. (She must know someone.) So we’re gabbing like you do at the hair dressers. At one point, Merry was talking about how she lost someone dear to her (she didn’t share who). “I feel sad every once and awhile, sure,” Merry says. “But I made a decision to honor her by packing as much joy as possible into my life.” Wow, I’m thinking. What a great way to look at things! I’m taking that and running with it. It’s my birthday month. I …

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