So, I’m standing at the check out of one of them new, “old fashioned” general stores, clutching a bag of penny candy, when I suddenly spy the fudge counter. What a dilemma!
“Vacationland.” That’s what it says on our Maine license plate, and it’s true. There are plenty of fun things to do here, year-round. We encourage folks from away to come and spend time in the great outdoors, enjoy the sights, eat the local delicacies, drink Moxie, buy stuff. We are willing to share our beautiful state with you, but please remember: be nice to us locals! The signs say “Maine: the way life should be”, not “Just like New Jersey, only prettier.”
I’m feeling a little blue this morning. If you’re an Elvis fan, you know why. Thirty-two years ago yesterday, the King passed on to that Great Show Room in the Sky. I sure do miss him. What a sexy man! Fat or thin, I don’t care. There was something about Elvis.
We told anyone who asked that we were going to Bangor for lunch, and the two-for-one sale at Payless. It wasn’t true. My sister Irene and me were going on a secret mission!
We do this once a summer. I had put my supplies in the car the night before, when it was dark, so no one would see, and the next morning I pulled into Irene’s garage to pick her up, so she could do the same. Our excitement was high we was headed out of town.
Summer has finally arrived in Maine, and once we recovered from the shock, the whole gang (Celeste and Bud, Rita and Smitty, Betty and Pat, Shirley and Junior, and me and Charlie) bee-lined it up to Dot and Tommy’s camp on Moose Megantic Lake to celebrate. The boys had a canoe race, played some horseshoes and practiced archery. (They’re toying with the idea of getting into bow hunting.) Us girls hung out in the lounge chairs, gabbing, reading magazines, and pestering the boys about drinking enough water and putting sunscreen on.
The other day, my friend Celeste and me were gabbing, catching up on things, and as usual, talking about our husbands. She says to me, “Ida, sometimes I just snap at Bud for no good reason. I feel bad after. Heck, I feel bad while I’m doing it, but I just can’t help myself.
“I know what you mean, Celeste. There are some days when every time I open my mouth to say something to Charlie, only frogs and toads come out. Nothing but frogs and toads.
“Why is that, Ida? They’re both sweet guys.
It sure has been a poor yard saling season here in Mahoosuc Mills, what with all the rain. Last week my sister, Irene says to me, “If you start seeing the animals pairing up, let me know. I’ll get Jimbo to put the paddle boat out on the lawn.”
But Saturday, lo and behold, the sun came out in time for our Fourth of July parade. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more enthusiastic crowd. We were all just so revved up to be outside without raingear.
Big doings in the LeClair household! Charlie and me just got a fifteen-month-old miniature poodle: Scamp. The experts at Poodle Rescue think there’s a bit of Bichon in him, and after living with him for two weeks, I think they’re right. It’s not just the shape of his hind legs, it’s Scamp’s temperament, which can veer toward the stubborn. So he fits right in at our house.
As you may or may not know, the Women Who Run with the Moose (that’s me and my friends, Celeste, Rita, Betty, Dot, and Shirley) are big into crafts. We just love to get together and cut, paste, and hot-glue. Then we put sequins on everything to cover up the boo- boos! So every now and then, I’ll be bringing you some fabulous craft ideas to try at home.
Now, as many of you know, a woman’s relationship with her hair stylist is a special one, and mine is no exception. It’s a bond born of loyalty, rooted in trust. Heck, no one knows your head like your hair stylist. The way I see it, you’re on a journey together, through the ever-changing seas of style. Some storms you weather better than others, but you don’t just jump ship on a whim.