Over the weekend, we went to a great Valentine’s Day Brunch at Betty and Pat’s. It was the usual suspects: Celeste and Bud, Rita and Smitty, Betty and Pat, Dot and Tommy, Shirley and Junior and me and Charlie. The food, I must say, was out of this world! I mean, what’s not to like about a meal that includes bacon and mimosas? Afterwards, we’re sittin’ around the livin’ room, enjoyin’ the wood stove and swappin’ stories, you know, like only old friends do. And because it was Valentine’s Day, these stories had a kind of lovey-dovey theme to ‘em. Junior told the one where he and Shirley were neckin’ up to Makeout Point, and …

I was talkin’ to my sister, Irene, the other day. “What do you have planned for this weekend, ‘Renee?” “Nothing!” she replies, a big smile on her face. “Jimbo’s off snowmobilin’ up to Presque Isle, so I have the whole weekend to myself.” “Oh, that sounds heavenly! What’re you gonna do?” “A whole bunch of nothin,’ Ida. Binge watch “The Good Wife,” maybe. Give myself a facial and mani-pedi, if I have the energy. Catch up on my Oprah magazines.” “You’re killin’ me! And on the menu?” “Haute cuisine. Popcorn and Junior Mints. That’s as far as I got.” “That’s a good start. And let me just say for the record, I am totally jealous!” …

I was out walking Scamp the other day and run into Pearl Plaisted dead-heading geraniums in her yard. “Ida!” she says, “I haven’t seen you all summer. Why don’t you come in for some iced tea, dear?” “Sounds good!” I reply. “It’s some hot out, huh?” Pearl seemed a little stuck in the “half way up” position, so I give her an assist, and into the house we go. “Hank,” she yells, “you decent? Ida’s here.” Scamp loves going over to Hank and Pearl’s place ‘cause that means he gets to terrorize their cat Tiki, named after some football player, I guess. Sitting on the screened in porch, we got to talking about the big …

I run into Bucky Dumont down to the A&P on Friday. He’s the fella with the horses who gives sleigh rides during our Down Home Holiday Festival. I was doing a little shopping after work, and he was “picking up a few things for the Mrs.” Sure enough, there in his shopping cart were milk, sugar, and a dozen eggs. “How ‘bout that case of Pabst, Bucky. She ask you to pick that up?” “Nope. Them’s what I call my “office supplies!” I’ve seen Bucky’s “office.” It’s that shed off the barn where he fixes his farm equipment and maintains the horse tack. Oh, he’s got it all decked out: ole pot bellied stove, TV, …