Each year at this time, the same thing happens.

Nothing.

With the impending arrival of summer, all news in the state of Maine officially comes to a halt. The Legislature goes home.

A sizable portion of the population goes on vacation.

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.

Hellougghfuh. Jutha minuphth. Ahm ahmoth finithed pigging muh teef.

Sorry, what I meant to say was, “Hello. Just a minute. I’m almost finished picking my teeth.”

I’m not saying the United States Postal Service is a right-wing organization. But it is opposed to left turns.

That’s official Postal Service policy. Drivers delivering mail are supposed to minimize the number of left turns they take, in order to … um … well, I suppose it’s to … er … really, I’ve got no idea.

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.

You can keep your hybrids, zero-emission vehicles and nuclear-powered flying cars equipped with laser weapons and force fields. Maine doesn’t need that kind of new-fangled technology, because we’ll soon be ending our dependence on foreign oil by converting every motor vehicle in the state to locally produced fuel.

(Please note: Laser weapons and force fields are currently unavailable as options on models powered by locally produced fuel.)

The state’s new tourism slogan was announced recently. I know you’re excited about that, so I won’t waste any time revealing the phrase that will replace such iconic mottos from past years as “It Must Be Maine,” “I Could Have Gone To Maine – Instead Of Going Crazy,” “See your Doctor If Side Effects Persist” and “Maine: Vowels Outnumber Consonants.”

At the end of last summer, the Women Who Run With the Moose (my friends, Celeste, Rita, Betty, Dot, and Shirley) made me throw away my old bathing suit, in order to force me into buying a new one this spring.

Spring has finally arrived in Mahossuc Mills, Maine. The daffodils are in bloom, the trees are budding, and we are fast approaching my favorite time of the year: yard sale season!

I just love yard sales. I love going to them and I love having them. Because the thing is, if you go to a lot of yard sales, you have to have a yard sale every once and a while to get rid of all the stuff you bought at the other yard sales.

It’s nearing the end of April and for most folks in the northeastern U.S. spring has sprung. On a recent trip to Boston I was bowled over by balmy breezes rustling through the riotously blossoming Rhododendrons and Forsythia. Then I came back to Maine, where my wife, a transplanted Minnesotan, insists that we have no such thing as spring.

She’s makes a good point.