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, …
A kitchen faucet is something that you use a lot, right? So when it’s running slow, it can be a real pain in the patootie. There you are, wanting a cup of tea, and it takes forever get enough water in the teapot. I mean, you have time to take a nap. It may be irritating to me, but poor Charlie sees that slow running faucet as his own personal failure as a husband. He’ll take this annoyance for so long, then it reaches a tipping point, and off he goes to Petey’s Plumbing with the problem piece. That’s the end of the faucet that you can screw off and it has a little screen …
The longer I’m married, the more I realize sometimes Charlie and me just have a completely different way of looking at things. Not the big things, of course. We’re on the same page there. But, you know, it’s those little things he does over and over again that can just irritate the crap of of me. And vice versa. Charlie was inspired to write a little diddy about one such thing. Half-a-Banana Man First thing this morning, I reach in the bowl Grabbed the one banana, I can’t eat it whole, so I took about half, put the other half back Boy, did I ever get flack! I like to start my day before I …
Have you ever been driving around, pass a house and think, I wonder if they’re having a yard sale, or if that’s just how they live? Or someone walks by you at the mall and you’re like, Geez, Louise, are they wearing perfume or is that bug dope? There are entire days where I just wondering around in my head. I wonder what I’ll make for supper? I wonder if I have time to clean the bathroom before I leave for work? I look at Scamp, and he’s staring off into space and I wonder what he’s thinking. I wonder if that’s a look of concentration on his furry, little face, or is it just …
Tomorrow will be the thirty-ninth anniversary of the passing of Elvis, and I still miss him. I know it sounds kind of old-fashioned, and I’ve heard that his popularity is waning. But for folks my age, the King is part of our youth. I remember watching him sing “Hound Dog” on the Ed Sullivan show, and it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. The hair, the moves, that smile, and most of all that twinkle in his eye. I look at the clips on YouTube now, and it’s clear he’s having the time of his life. I can see that little bit of him, anyways, doesn’t really care. He’s just goofing around. “All Shook …
You ever take a vacation, come home and think, It’s just not worth it? You’re out there getting all rested up, having a great time with your husband, eating good food, joking around. Then you get home, and wham! Zero to 60: doing laundry, returning emails, menu planning, grocery shopping and trying to resuscitate the hanging plant outside the front door. Oh, and apparently the power went out while you were gone, and all the clocks need to be reset. Phew! That’s what happened to me this weekend when Charlie and me got back from our little vacation. We took a leisurely drive up the coast, junktiquing and eating lobster rolls, fried clams and onion …
Our pig died. Well, jeez, we’d only had it since the ‘70s. I’d say we got our money’s worth. I’m not talking about a real pig, of course. “Pig” is what we call garbage disposals in this neck of the woods. So off we go to Bangor. They had way too many garbage disposals to chose from at Sears, but this fast talking sales fella, Wayne, easily answered all our questions. “Does this one come with everything we need to install it?” Charlie asks. “Oh, yes,” Wayne assures us. “Everything you need is right in the box.” You can guess where I’m going with this one, right? But stay with me, here. First, I’ve got …
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 …
Charlie and me had a great time on Saturday night. We went to a dance down to the VFW. It was a fundraiser for the artist collective that our niece Caitlin belongs to. I don’t know exactly what an artist collective is, but she seems to have a lot of fun with it so it can’t be half bad. The band wasn’t the usual deal we’d go in for, you know rock n’ roll oldies. It was this Latin-type band up form Portland. Oh, what a cute bunch of young fellas, wicked talented and very energetic! When it come right down to it, Charlie wanted to blow the whole thing off. “I’m tired from workin’ …
Recipes for Romance Each chapter of my new book, The Sweet Life, features a little section I call “Recipes for Romance, which is exactly what it says. It could be a real recipe or a recipe for a date. Here’s the first one featured in the book. Give it a try. You won’t be disappointed! No matter who does most of the cooking––you, him or your personal chef, Mr. Ronald McDonald–it’s important to learn how to make a couple of things your husband’s mother used to make for him (providing he liked her cooking). In the newlywed days, your cooking may be an adjustment for him. If he starts getting that deer in the …