The World Is My Toaster

As you probably know by now, me and my friends, Celeste, Rita, Betty, Dot and Shirley (or the Women Who Run with the Moose, as we call ourselves) get together once a week for a little girlfriend time. Been doing this since Moby Dick was a minnow. God, we have some laughs! Like last week, we buzz on over to the all-you-can-eat-buffet down to the Hukilau Polynesian Restaurant. We just love going there. It’s so, I don’t know, exotic. We order our usual: a couple of pupu platters, then on to the buffet for egg rolls, fried rice, lo mien, and some kind of meat on sticks (we don’t ask questions). The girls split a …

Calgon, Take Me Away

What to wear? What to have for dinner? God, I’m tired of making decisions! What time do we have to leave for the potluck? What should I make for the potluck, and when do I put it in the oven so it’s still warm when it gets there, but not too hot to handle? Sometimes, I think if I have to make another decision, my head will explode! Part of being a grownup is making decisions, of course. It kind of comes with the territory. Ever wonder why kids have more energy than we do? Stuff’s decided for ‘em! I think that’s why people hide out in monasteries and ashrams (or whatever they’re called). It’s …

Don’t Forget Your Safety Goggles

After a certain age, your body changes. You and I know this to be true. The fat in your butt inches it’s way ‘round your stomach. That extra plumpness that was keeping your breast perky has headed south for the duration, taking up permanent residence on your inner thighs. Your hair migrates from where you want it to someplace else, where you don’t. Then there’s the feet. Women, like me, tend to get bunions caused by shoes that are too tight, too narrow or too high. In short, they’re cute, but impractical. Hey, you have to suffer to be beautiful, right? Men get what Charlie and his friends call “old man feet.” I don’t even …

Ain’t Life Grand?

Now usually, if I’ve got shopping to do, I try to rope in my sister or girlfriends. But shopping for a bra, that’s different. It takes concentration and fortitude. There’s no fooling around. So last weekend, off I went all by my lonesome to the Bangor Mall. To be honest, I was not in that great a mood. In my opinion, shopping for a new bra is right up there with buying for a new bathing suit. Both score very low on the ol’ fun-o-meter! So, I’m on Stillwater Ave in the turning lane, within spitting distance of the mall. I mean, I can see it. And my car dies. Yup, it goes kaput, put …

Greta Garbo Had it Right

I was talking to my sister, Irene, the other day. “What do you have planned for this weekend, ‘Reeney?” “Nothing!” she replies, a big smile on her face. “Jimbo’s off snowmobiling 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 nothing, Ida. Binge watch something on Netflix, maybe. Give myself a facial and mani-pedi, if I have the energy. Catch up on my People magazines.” “You’re killing 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!” …

Kitchen Faucet Dilemma

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 problem piece. That’s the end of the faucet that you can screw off and it has a little screen thingy …

No Strings Attached

Ah, Valentine’s Day: that’s a favorite of mine. As a cashier down to the A&P, I get to see first-hand all the nice stuff folks buy for their honeys: cards, red roses, and sweets for their sweeties. Plus, I get to wear red, which looks good on me (it’s in my color wheel). And, of course, it’s a chance for Charlie to give me a box of chocolates and for me to bake him a batch of his favorite cookies. They’re your basic oatmeal raisin, except I use Raisinettes, so you get the chocolate and raisin thing going. Try it. They’re delicious! Valentine’s Day also signals that we only have about six more weeks of …

Sometimes You Wonder

Hard to tell what goes on in other people’s marriages, but sometimes you wonder. Can’t help it. There’s this couple from away that Charlie and me see when we’re out and about. They’ve only been in town a couple of years. We don’t know them and I haven’t been able to dig up much info. I think they pretty much keep themselves to themselves. Charlie and me have nicknamed them Fred and Ethel. About the only time we see them is when they’re out walking or riding their bikes. We’ve never once had just a Fred or just an Ethel sighting. Nope, it’s Fred and Ethel together, and Fred is always smiling. Ethel is friendly …

Time is My Friend

January is almost done, thank goodness. My decluttering is kind of stalled, though, because I’ve done all the easy stuff, and all that’s left are big things like tacking my craft room or the catch all closet. But, it’s hard to get motivated. Frankly, I’m kind of overwhelmed just thinking about it. Caitlin, my niece and guru for all things new age-y, says to me the other day, “Aunt Ida, some animals hyphenate for the winter. Maybe we should take our cue from them, and slow down a little. You know, enjoy it.” We were having lunch down to the Busy Bee, and I was tucking into the special of the day: baked macaroni and …

A Pill to Get Motivated

Sunday, Charlie and me were taking a late morning walk. It’s been hard for Cora and us to get motivated early in the morning what with the frigid temps. We all needed a little exercise and truth be told, we were hoping work off some of the bacon and Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls we had for breakfast. So, we’re walking ‘round our neighborhood, past a little wooded lot, when Orrin Libby pops out from behind some trees. Orrin must be in his late seventies, I’m guessing, and he has the walking thing down. He takes a jaunt downtown, about three miles ‘round trip, every morning to pick up the paper. Rain, snow, hot or cold, he’s …

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