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 …

Boy, we’ve had some wicked thunder boomers lately! The middle of the night kind, where that clap of thunder is so loud, you levitate out of bed. Thank goodness, our little dog Scamp is unfazed. He just sighs and rolls over. I wish Charlie and me could do the same. It’s like that thunder has breathed new life into us. Then there’s the storms that happen late in the afternoon. The kind where Mahoosuc Mills turns from Vacationland to Stephen King territory in a few ominous minutes. You look one way, and it’s fine: sunny and full of promise. Then you turn your head and see the Apocalypse bearing down on you. The wind starts …

We’re coming up on a very special anniversary, my friends. That’s right, the death of Elvis Presley. August 16, 1977, a date burned into my memory. That’s when the King relocated to heaven, taking all his talent and charisma with him. Forty-two years later, you know what? I still miss him. What a sexy man! Fat or thin, I don’t care, there was something about Elvis. When I think of him, though, I mostly think of the young Elvis. That first time on Ed Sullivan, oh mister man! We’d never seen anything like him. Even though they only showed him from the waist up, which made it even more tantalizing. Us girls were all a-flutter …

Babe Delahunt runs the Busy Bee Bakery with her husband Bud. It’s over on Main Street here in Mahoosuc Mills. They’re open for breakfast and lunch seven days a week during the summer. Babe’s a real peach, give you the shirt off her back. But she has a limited tolerance for snotty tourists and has her own unique way of handling them. I was in there the other day getting a coffee frappe (got to keep up my strength) when I witnessed Babe at her best. This fella from away barges in, talking on a cell phone like we all want to know his business. “Look,” he says, “I need to see some results in …

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. …

Seems like I’ve been wicked busy, but it’s that summer sort of busy. You know, the kind of busy where it feels like you’re on the go all the time, but don’t have much to show for it? Anyways, it’s been “hotter than Hades” here in Mahoosuc Mills. I’ve heard that more times than I can count while cashiering down to the A&P. This is from the same folks (no need to name names) who complain about the snow, the mud, the black flies, and the tourists, depending on the season. Complaining is what seems to keep these folks going, so this summer’s heat and humidity has been a whining bonanza. Now, these are the …

There’s a lot I love about living in a small town like the feeling of community, folks greeting you by name at the post office or down to the transfer station, everyone knowing your business. Well that last one, not so much. We’ve lived on our street for almost forty years. Sure some folks have come and gone, but there’s still a core of us old timers. It’s not like we socialize a whole heck of a lot. Sure, we’ll show up at a Christmas open house and every once and awhile we have a cookout. Mostly, we’re what I’d call neighborly. We look out for each other in a blizzard, stop and shoot the …

Happy March! After a snowy beginning to the week, we segued into absolutely frigid temps driven down by the wind, then topped all this loveliness off yesterday with a wintery mix. “Wintery mix” sounds more like potpourri, doesn’t it? You know, an overwhelming combination of cinnamon, balsam, and cloves? Whether it’s smelling up the house or messing up the roads, a wintery mix stinks. But this coming week’s looking pretty good. We’re supposed to eek into the 40’s. That’s downright balmy for this neck of the woods. I’ve got visions of crocuses dancing in my head. Now that the weather will hopefully be getting warmer, we’re going to start seeing a certain spring fashion trend …

It’s snowing to beat the band here in Mahoosuc Mills today. In like a lion, right? A snow day means baking in our house, and I just finished making a batch of my Grandmother’s molasses cookies. Boy, they sure looked beautiful, if I do say so myself. Just like I remember. I have Grammy’s recipe written in her shaky hand on white (now yellow) lined paper. The thing even has Grammy’s molasses stains on it. My mother had it laminated for me years ago, and I’ve used it so much it’s starting to separate along the edges. The thing I like most about this recipe is that in the margin at the top of the page, …

They say if you don’t like the weather in Maine, just wait a minute. And ain’t that the truth! This week, we had that arctic blast for a couple of days, then our January thaw, which is good for the all the plants and wildlife. Us people, too. It actually got up to 40 plus degrees, if you can believe it, with flood warnings because of rain and melting snow. Then, back to the usual twenties and thirties. They call the super cold or strangely high temperatures “unseasonable,” but I say they’re just par for the course. Charlie and me walk Scamp every morning, and we always do the same thing. We get up, put …