So the other day, I’m working at the A&P, ringing out Pearl Plaisted when I notice she has on the cutest pair of angel earrings. “Pearl,” I says, “look at those angel earrings. Aren’t they just adorable?” (See, I believe if someone is looking sharp, you should tell them.) Pearl smiles. “Got ‘em down to the Dollar Store. Fifty cents!” “That is a bargain at twice the price! Oh, and look at your angel pin.” “Ida,” she says, “this is my guardian angel. I’ve taken to wearing it ever since that incident down to Home Depot.” No one else was in line, so I shut off my register light, “Do tell, Pearl!” “Well, Hank and …

I’ve been putting off writing this blog post. It’s been almost two weeks now since we had to say good-bye to our little buddy. Scamp didn’t seem to be in any pain, but he was just a shadow of his former self. The spunk was gone, the spark, too. No more long walks, no jumping up on the Barcalounger love seat, that little tail of his no longer stood at attention. Why, even his bark had changed. He didn’t eat much, except for treats. I swear, the only thing keeping him going was love. I woke in the middle of the night hearing Scamp try to get comfortable, going from his bed to the floor …

Saturday, my husband come back from the Transfer Station, chuckling. “What is it, Charlie?” “It was classic, Ida. Just classic.” There’s something about that place that gives Charlie a thrill. He always looks so happy loading up the truck with trash and recycling, and heading off into the morning mist. The allure is lost on me, but Charlie’s love affair with the Transfer Station gives me some time alone to putter ‘round before I head off for my weekly appointment with Pasty down to Hair Affair. So, I guess, in a roundabout way, I’m fond of the Transfer Station, too! Remember when the Transfer Station was the dump? Back in the days before cable TV, …

Wow! Last week, the weather was wacky to the max! Mid-week we got a “dusting” of snow that ended up being about three inches. It was that wet kind of snow that sticks to all the trees and shrubs and makes the world look magical. I took a walk the morning after our little storm. The real feel temps were hovering around 23 degrees, but the sun was shining and the world looked so bright and clear, with a sky the most intense shade of blue. A couple hours later, the trees were bare again. The ice had melted off the cars, and there was this steady drip, drip, drip from the roof as the …

Charlie and me are at the age where we spend a lot of time thinking about the hereafter. We walk into a room and think, Now, what am I here after? (Tommy’s aunt told me that one, and boy, ain’t it the truth!) If you find yourself always losing things, routine is your friend. It’s simple. Choose a place where something is going to live, say your car keys, and always return the thing in question to it’s home base. That way, it’ll always be there when you need it. Easier said than done, right? Your cell phone rings as you’re wrestling grocery bags from the car into the house. You put everything on the …

We’ve been having some wacky weather here in Mahoosuc Mills. A few weeks ago we had a snow storm that turned to icy rain. Then, we had a cold snap which left our driveway looking like Antarctica. Since then, we’ve been on a roller coaster ride of cold snaps and spring-like weather. So, about normal for winter in Maine, though so far, February is looking more like March. Go figure! Anyhoo, Charlie’s had a run for his money keeping the driveway up to par, making sure we don’t fall and break a hip. Yet, he did find time to write me a love poem. At first glance, I know it doesn’t look like a love …

I lot of my friends are starting to retire. Or talking about retirement, weighing their options. Charlie is, too. God knows, he’s put in his time in down to the mill. Worked his way up to foreman. Survived all them pink slips as operations got smaller and smaller. Man, it’s been stressful, the not knowing. Not just for Charlie, but for all of Mahoosuc Mills, too. Used to be, the paper mill was the best job in town. Hard work, sure, but good, steady pay and benefits, and secure. Not anymore. Anyhoo, Charlie will be 65 next month, so, yeah, we’ve been talking ‘bout it. It would be great to see Charlie have more time …

Charlie and me were taking a Sunday morning walk, just the two of us. Scamp doesn’t really do walks anymore. We take him out in the yard, where he pees, then stands and sniffs the air for about five minutes not willing to go any further. Guess he’s deciding whether or not he has to poop. Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn’t. 50/50 chance on those mornings when doesn’t go outside, he realizes later he had to go after all, and leaves a little deposit or two around the house. More times than not in the bathroom, if you can believe it. He’s always been a smart little fella. Anyhoo, Charlie and me were out …

“Charlie, a hoodie’s like cargo pants, only for your top half.” By the look on Charlie’s face I realized I’d said that out loud. To be fair, it was the day after my Covid booster, and I was feeling a little under the weather. My true feelings just come out. I hate Charlie’s hoodie! It’s okay working around the yard or going to the transfer station or Agway. Fine. But not when we go out to breakfast or a bean supper. I’d tried being subtle, but Charlie wasn’t picking up on my hints. We’ll be going down to the Brew Ha Ha for a bite to eat, and I go, “How about putting on that …

The first frost of the season always takes me by surprise. I’m ready for work, right? Wouldn’t say I’m running late, but I’m not early either. I head out to the car and darn, frost on the windshield. ‘Course we haven’t put the scrappers and winter stuff in the vehicles yet. That would be too sensible. Charlie’s already left for work, and I don’t want to take time to hunt around in the shed for where he hid ‘em last spring. So, I fumble in my purse for my wallet, get out a credit card (usually Victoria’s Secret because I don’t use it that often) and proceed to scrape the window with it. I hope …