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 …

Walker envy. It’s a thing. I know because I’ve seen it down to Mahoosuc Green, where my dad lives. Their motto there is “experience your finest senior moments with us.” Jury’s still out on that one, but I gotta say, it’s a pretty nice place. Dad has a cute little apartment. He eats a meal in the dining room every day and plays “Beano” as he calls it, every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday evening. In March, my dad will turn 86. His days of golfing, bowling, and dating may be behind him, but there’s still a lot of life left in the old duffer. Dad learned the hard way that his walker is his friend …

We’re closing in on the first of the year, and none too soon, huh? Boy, working down to the A&P, I’ve seen some mighty stressed out people, let me tell you! No need to name names. You know who you are. And if you’re not one of ‘em, you’ve seen ‘em, too, I’m sure. Men on a mission, running in to get that one last thing their wife forgot. With the eye of the tiger and no time for hellos, they dash into the produce section or down an aisle only to appear at the express lane five or ten or sometimes fifteen minutes later, deer in the headlights, sweat on their upper lip. You …

Charlie and me had a surprise visitor around our bird feeder the other day. I’ll let Charlie tell you about it. No Ordinary Vermin By the window, Ida asked me “What the heck is that?” Racing ‘round the driveway like some Crazy kind of rat?”  I came to look, and saw this bugger Dashing to and fro Chasing after all the birds His coat as white as snow  “Is that some kind of weasel, Charlie? That would be my vote” Yup, I says, you nailed it, Ida That’s what’s called a stoat  See that little tip of black He’s got upon his tail? Now and then we see ‘em When we’ve stopped along the trail …