Charlie and me were out for a Sunday drive, and happened to pass Agnes Brown’s place out on Duck Pond Road. “Slow down, Charlie. Look, Aggie’s got ladders up!” “Ida, them ladders been up over a year.” “No!” “Seen them there last winter, under a foot of snow.” “There should be a law! You are not allowed begin another home improvement project ‘til you’ve finished the last one.” “Or in Aggie’s case, the last ten or twenty projects.” “Wow! What a way to live!” “One year, Ida, I kid you not, I think she put up one shingle.” “Come on!” “Really. Billy Pritchard told me. He lives in the grey house over there. Keeps an …
The poet laureate of Mahoosuc Mills strikes again, and who could blame him. If Shakespeare had had the pleasure of partaking in one of Babe’s homemade, fresh-from-the-oven, maple glazed donuts, I’m sure he’d have written a sonnet about it. Thankfully, Charlie stepped in to fill the gap. Here’s his latest. Maple Glazed Doughnut Down to the mill, If you punch in early, ‘Round about ten Your stomach gets squirrel-ly Someone’s elected To go, make it hasty And bring us all back Some coffee and pastry Muffins, of course, Are a popular pick And danish are usually Polished off quick The guys all have favorites They never outgrow, For me, it’s the Maple Glazed Doughnut On …
In the next few blogs, I’ll be featuring excerpts from my new book, The Sweet Life: Ida LeClair’s Guide to Love and Marriage which comes out May 19th. Here’s a little something from the third chapter called, “There is no ‘I’ in Team, but Maybe There Should Be.” Good friendships are an important part of my personal happiness. Yes, Charlie and me are best friends, but I have other best friends, too. I just think it’s unfair to you and your mate to expect them to be your everything. That’s a lot of pressure. Besides, sometimes you just need to talk about your mate with someone to, you know, blow off some steam. …
Wow! Compared to last winter, this one has been a breeze, hasn’t it? (Knock on wood.) Good thing, too. I don’t think Charlie’s back couldn’t have taken another February like the one we had in 2015. Because even with a plow on your truck, you still gotta snow blow the paths to the shed and the mailbox and for the oil and gas dilivery guys. Then, there’s shoveling off the deck and the steps and don’t forget, raking the roof. Swear to God, I think we still had piles of unmelted snow into April! But this winter, we’ve actually seen the grass between small dumpings of the white stuff. And some days, it’s felt like …
I was lookin’ through old photo albums the other day, when I come across this Halloween gem. I don’t know what Irene and me were supposed to be, but it must have been some cold and crappy out. Check out the winter coats and boots. If you look close, you can see Irene has a knit hat on behind her cat mask. Maybe that’s why she’s holding it up, instead of wearin’ it. (That mask was probably a tight fit with the hat on.) I think I see the hint of a hood behind my mask. And what’s up with Irene’s cape, with the dancing circus dogs on it? My biggest concern when I look …
Fall’s hunting season here in Maine. Bow hunting takes place in October, and come November, they bring out the heavy artillery. So if you’re out walking in the woods, be sure to wear your blaze orange vests, hats and what not. I know, it’s not in my color wheel either, but sometimes you gotta forgo fashion for safety. Why, even our little dog Scamp wears his colors. Got him a blaze orange bandana and vest, and boy, oh boy, does he ever look cunnin.’ Hunting season always makes me think of my Grandfather, Fredrick Gilbert. Grampy was a Registered Maine Guide. Folks from away would come up to Maine to go hunting and fishing, and …
Saturday morning, Charlie and me went out for breakfast down to the Busy Bee. Now that Labor Day has passed, the tourists are thinning out, so us locals can actually get a seat. My sister Irene and her husband Jimbo were planning to meet us there. We arrive to find them sitting at an outdoor table, shooting the breeze with Craig Holden. “Hey there, Craig,” I says. “How you doing?” Gosh, Craig must be in his forties now. He’s Snowdell Holden’s grandson. Snowdell’s the former postmistress of Mahoosuc Mills, and reigning grand poobah of the local chapter of the Red Hatters. But that’s another story. Jimbo goes, “Craig’s trying to unload a rooster.” “Would you …
So, I’m working checkout at the A&P, right? When I hear this conversation out of the corner of my ear: two women, voices lowered, talking fast in a urgent sort way. I mean, who wouldn’t listen in? “He wakes me up every morning at 5:00.” “Every morning?” “Like clockwork. I don’t mind it so much on week days. I have to be up for work, anyways. But, it’s the weekends, too.” “You think he’d let you sleep in at least one morning.” “Nope. He just won’t give it a rest. At first I thought it was kind of cute, you know? But frankly, it’s wearing me down!” “I don’t blame you. Not every morning.” Well, …
Boy, I’ll tell ya, things are always changin’ down to the transfer station! So much so, it’s hard to keep it all straight, one week to another. They take #1 and #2 plastic, but #5? One week yes, the next week no. Keep the plastic caps on the bottles? No, now you’re supposed to take ‘em off and put ‘em over there. I secretly wonder if, late at night, they don’t have a good laugh at our expense, as they mix all the recycling together and toss it into the compactor. Pretty cynical, I know, but the thought has crossed my mind. Oh, it’s just too much rigmarole for me. But Charlie, thank God, he …
This week, I stopped by Wicked Good Stuff, our little thrift shop in town, to drop off a few of things. I mean, how many mugs with logos do you really need? I also donated a pasta maker I got a some Yankee Swap a few years back. Never did figure out how to use it. Plus, hello, you can get the fresh stuff already made down to the A&P, so why bother? I also threw in a pair of black sandals with bows that were so cute, but honey, every friggin’ time I wore ‘em it felt like I was part of some sort of an ancient foot binding ritual. Pure torture! It always …
