Ida LeClair, Maine's Funniest Woman, has a new home. You can visit her anytime at idaswebsite.com
Well, me and the girls were down to the Bangor Mall the other day, livin’ la vida loca, and when it came time for lunch we dropped into Panera.
As I ordered a Chipotle Chicken Panini, and I’m thinkin’, If I’d walked in here ten years ago, and saw that on the menu, the only word I’d recognized would be chicken. I mean, who come up with the idea of the Panini, anyway?
Tuesday began as just another day in the town of Woolwich (motto: Pronounced Two Different Ways: Wool-witch and Wit-ah-pit-lok). And it continued as just another day all morning long. And all afternoon. And right through happy hour, it couldn’t have been more ordinary. But about 7:30 p.m., things began to change in the general direction of the unusual. For one thing, it started to get dark. That’s not the unusual part. Which is: Woolwich was hit by a tornado.
So, I’m at Mikey’s Meat Market on Saturday. I buy the basic stuff down to our A&P, of course: ground turkey, chicken breasts and the like. But when it comes to steak, roasts and such, I go to Mikey’s. It’s a good old fashioned meat market with people behind the counter who really know their stuff, including how long to cook just about anything you’re buying.
In ancient times, people believed many strange ideas, such as:
Adam Sandler is funny.
Trading away Kevin Youkilis while getting almost nothing in return makes sense for the Boston Red Sox, because he’s about to go into a serious decline.
Tomatoes are poisonous.
Charlie and me had a nice weekend together. Didn’t do anything special, just a few errands on Saturday morning, a walk with Scamp in the afternoon and then down to the Bonanza for supper. On Sunday, church, of course, and in the evening we scooted over to the DQ for Peanut Buster Parfaits.
So I’m sittin’ here this morning, thinkin’ about how lucky I am, considering we almost didn’t make it to the altar. Forty years have passed, but God, I remember it like it was just yesterday.
A shocking set of statistics has been brought to my attention. When it comes to annual per capita consumption of beer, Maine comes up way short of New Hampshire.
Last Thursday was girls night out, so Celeste, Rita, Betty, Dot, Shirley and me buzz over to the all-you-can-eat-buffet down to the Hukilau Polynesian Restaurant, out on the edge of town. Were we ever psyched!
‘Course, I’m maintaining now on Weight Watchers, so I can’t exactly go hog wild. But I’d saved all my extra points for a splurge. I had 49 of my weekly’s left, plus the remaining 12 for the day. If I get crazy, I’m thinking, I’ll just hop on my bike, and ride like the dickens every day ‘til my next weigh in!
Well, summer’s in full swing here in Mahoosuc Mills. You can tell by the number of out of state plates on the cars, passengers lookin’ all around. The American Flags are lined up along Main Street ready for our July 4th celebration.
And every weekend there are yard sales galore! Me and my niece Caitlin were out doin’ the rounds a couple of Saturdays back. We’re at Sandy LaBranche’s, and I’d just spied a set of frog prince and princess salt and pepper shakers, when I hear Caitlin callin’ me from the other side of the driveway.
In a clandestine, pre-dawn strike late last week, an overwhelming guerilla force from Boston took control of key assets in Portland, effectively incorporating Maine’s largest city into Massachusetts.
Well, Charlie and me went to Town Meeting last week, and, I swear, it made me despair for the future of humankind. Really!
I hadn’t been in awhile, I confess. Charlie goes more than me. At breakfast he says, “Ida, we’re voting on a bunch of stuff tonight. Why don’t you come along?”
I start lookin’ around the kitchen, you know, to see if there’s any chores on the horizon, dust bustin’, cleanin’ the oven or what not, that might preempt such an outing.