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 …

In my book, The Sweet Life, I have a whole chapter devoted to sex. Hey, it’s a book about love and marriage, so it had to be done. Doesn’t quite have the same pizzazz as when we were younger, but it’s not half bad. I’m no Dr. Ruth (I’m short, but not that short), but bottom line: I’m a firm believer in doing whatever you need to do in order to do it. I’ll spare you the details. Oh, and fantasize all you want about whoever you want, but just don’t act on it. My friend Rita learned this the hard way. Rita works down to Smitty’s Hardware, which is owned by her husband, Smitty. …

All of a sudden, I’m hearing this commotion in the bathroom. Sounds like Charlie’s trying to find something. “Hey, Ida!” “Yeah?” “You seen my nose hair clipper?” “Your what?” “You know, that thing I use to trim my nose hair.” “Where is it usually?” “Top drawer.” Nose hair clipper. I can kind of see it in my mind, this heavy, pewter-colored thing, looks kind of like a medieval torture device. “You mean that industrial strength roto-rooter I bought you a few years back?” “Yeah, that. Can’t find it.” Oh, no, I’m thinking. I can picture the thing now, in a plastic tray nestled between five or six lipsticks, all in crap colors, make you look …

Charlie’s latest brings to mind so many thoughts. Take a gander, then I’ll share ‘em with you. Look Up and Be Proud Grandpa once told me “Look up and be proud! Distinguishable From the rest of the crowd” But each time I did, Wouldn’t you know, I’d stumble or trip Over something below A rake or a pail Or the root of a tree A crusty old dog That I didn’t see There’s always some obstacle Down on the ground That is the reason I’ve always looked down My posture, I know, Has taken a hit Best thing for me? Find somewhere to sit Where I’m out of range Of things I could trip on …

I love food. No secret about that. I love eating it, of course, but I also like looking at pictures of food in magazines,  cookbooks, Facebook, Pinterest, billboards, you name it. I call this food porn. You know what I’m talking about! In my humble opinion, food always tastes best when you didn’t cook it yourself. What makes book group fun? The books? No. The idle chit chat? Maybe. But where’s the food? Then there’s going out to eat. What’s not to like about that? First off, you got your cocktails and bread basket, and if you’re lucky, some herbed butter. Or in an Italian restaurant: focaccia and olive oil. Then you get to pour …

 I know I probably shouldn’t be complaining about this. I mean, just look at the temperatures in other parts of the country. Still, I can’t remember ever being this cranky hot. We’re in Maine for God sakes! It’s not supposed to be this hot for this long. We’re not equipped to handle it. It’s like when some place down south gets an inch of snow, and it puts a monkey wrench in everything. That’s what it feels like here in Mahoosuc Mills. Everybody’s discombobulated. Charlie and me have air-conditioning in our bedroom, of course, but the rest of the house never really cools down. And humid! My makeup seems to slide around on my face. …

Charlie come home from work the other day, and I could tell straight off, he had some sort of bee in his bonnet. “What’s a matter?” I ask. “I’m gonna mow the lawn ‘fore supper,” he says, storming out the door and letting it slam behind him. “OK. Sounds good.” Now, in the early years of our marriage, I’d try to get Charlie to tell me what was bothering him. I’d hug him, you know, wanting to make things better. Frankly, all that did was make him feel smothered. Then, I’d end up as miffed as he was. Nowadays, I give him a wide berth, let him work through whatever it is at his own …

I’ve been on a jag lately of reorganizing and freshening up the house. I try to tackle one project a week. These are not just any projects. They’re the ones that have been on my list for a dogs age and I never seem to get to them. The kind of stuff that takes up space in your head and on your list of things to do. Then, when you actually roll up your sleeves and do ‘em, they take less time than you thought they would. You feel great after, and think, Why’d I wait so long. I’m talking about reorganizing the junk drawer, repotting plants, cleaning out our storage closet. I’ve finally gotten …

Charlie went Home Depot last week, and wrote a poem about it. Cute Cashier Cute cashier in the check-out line Perky as heck at the start of her shift Perky’s contagious, you catch my drift? A good day, I’d say she’s begun it If she’d asked me to stand on my head, I’d have done it Or tried, anyway It wouldn’t be pretty I might have more luck If I sung her a ditty But people behind me Don’t need a song They need me to pay her And just move along Cute cashier in the check-out line Perky and cute, that’s a real gift Gives an ol’ bugger like this one a lift A …

Saturday morning, off I go to walk the dog. We step onto the deck, about ready to go down the stairs and yikes! That part of the deck collapses and down I go. Luckily, Cora was ahead of me, so she was okay. And so was I, amazingly. Three boards let go and I went straight down about three and a half feet. My first thought was, thank God it wasn’t Charlie. I knew he was going to the transfer station later in the morning and would be carrying stuff. Plus, it was a Ida-sized hole and I landed on my feet in the middle of it. Not a scratch on me. I’m thinking it …