Case of the missing socks

We all joke about missing socks, but c’mon, where the heck DO THEY GO? They walk with us as a pair all the way to the washing machine, but only ONE comes OUT! And it’s not like one got stuck in the machine or fell on the floor and never made there in the first place…’cause we retrace our steps and we can’t find it anywhere!

Now once in awhile, weeeeeeks later, we might find it setting behind the washing machine or some place that makes sense once we think about it.  But, no matter how many times I retraced my steps yesterday, I couldn’t find one sock that just up and disappeared.  And I mean to tell you… it was not on this PLANET!

I’m thinking … maybe it fell into the future.

Oh stop rolling your eyes!

Why my late Auntie Fester used to say there’s so much we don’t understand and that one thing is that we live in simultaneous dimensions, past, present, and future.  In fact, that’s the excuse Auntie F always used for being late!

“Why I’m not late,” she’d say. “You’re the one stuck in the past!”

Now if my sock fell into the future, that’ll be a good thing. ‘Cause all I’ll need to do is to keep on walking, and sure enough… I’ll meet up with it again one day!

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My Ukulele Winter

Why I knew I had to do something to get me through another long grey winter in Lake WhaddyathinkImean. And learning how to play the ukulele was just the thing! Why just the sound of a uke makes ol’ Maybelle  smile.  And now I’m hearing it in tv commercials, cds. Why even Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam is playing the uke. That’s right. He’s got a CD out with just him on it, singing’ and strummin’ his four stringer.

So the first thing I did was call Kris Kadwell in Haliburton (he’s the host of a terrific music radio show on 100.9 CanoeFM called “Paddling Beyond the Mainstream” and a terrific guitar player to boot) and ask him what kinda ukulele I should buy. And you know what he told me? Go to a store that carries a lot of ukes and try them all. One of them will speak to you.

So, I drove straight to “Guitar Nuts” in Bancroft and if I didn’t see a whole bunch of ukes hanging on the wall.  Soprano ukes, concert ukes, tenors and baritones. And there was one that didn’t even look like a uke. It was made of beautiful white wood and pearlised like some guitars.  That was the 3rd one I tried strumming, and if it didn’t have the sweetest sound of all. Well, to my ears, anyway. And it felt so sweet in my hands. Why I just knew that “Pearl” as I named her, was coming home with me.

That was more than 3 months ago and it was better than a trip to Miami. What FUN, don’tcha know!!!

 

 

And never been one to play an instrument, it looked like one ol’ Maybelle wouldn’t have too much trouble strumming.

It’s been three whole months since Pearl  came into my life. That’s what I named my ukulele ’cause she’s a beautiful white wood and kinda pearlized, don’tcha know.  I I just had to bring her home.

And I’m having more fun learning to play her than

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I’ve got a new ebook, don’tcha know

Why I’m head over heels giddy because ol’ Maybelle’s got a brand spanking new E-book at the Amazon Kindle bookstore, don’tcha know! 21 of the Best of Maybelle’s Fireside Stories that were first published in the Haliburton Echo.  And I call it, “Maybelle’s Cure For What Ails You,” ’cause that’s what it’s meant to do. Cheer you up. Get your endorphins popping. Help put the whole pudding into perspective. And right now, you can listen to THREE chapters FOR FREE! Just click on AUDIO PODCASTS.  Naturally, all my friends are in there: Vilma Yuccch, Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom, Twindle Mumbly, Beanpole Starkman, Sybil Beaucannon Hughes and Bogart, my pet bear. So enjoy and …

…thanks for stopping by.

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Santy Claus and the fruit cake bake-off, don’tcha know

Well if there isn’t snow on the ground today, just in time for our Lake WhaddyathinImean Santy Claus Parade and Fruit Cake Bake-off, don’tcha know.

Why right now, Twindle Mumbly is putting the last bit of topping on his 64-ingredient Santa’s-Gonna-Get-Fatter award-winning treat. How he gets all that in there is beyond ol’ Maybelle, but he’s been our top Lake W bake-off Meister ever since Scotch Burbun drowned in his own 100 proof rum-soaked fruit cake.

Why, bells are a-ringing, tinsel’s a-flyin’, and the little ones are putting extra stamps on their cards and letters to the big guy in the red suit.

But best of all…every body here in Lake WhaddyathinkImean is making presents for the wee ones just in case Santa has to lay off some of his elves and reindeer, don’tcha know.

Why even Vilma Yuccch has been tie-dying blue jeans and running shoes in sizes Really Teeny to Humungus, the biggest bein’ for Bogart, don’tcha know. Course being a bear and all, he probably won’t want to wear anything on his feet, although he does like flopping around in sandals in the cottage. But her psycho-dellic blue jeans just might tickle his fanny…especially if they’re too tight.

And how lucky we are having Vilma’s heartthrob, Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom, making all kinds of presents with his amazing new invention, the Stanley McBottom Bigger-Than-Anything-You-Can-Imagine-And-Then-Some machine.

Why right after the Santy Claus Parade, we’re all going to the Fruit Cake Bake-off INSIDE a ginger bread house! That’s right. McB, believing that anything is possible, turned a regular size fully decorated gingerbread house into the size of our Lake W curling rink, don’tcha know. Course he had to replace the jelly bean door knob with a real one cause it was too big to turn.

And oh, the sweet smell of it! Gingerbread walls, gingerbread ceiling, gingerbread floor. Just hope the kids don’t start eating it before the snow lets up.

As for the parade….Beanpole Starkman’s Tiger Moth biplane is aiming to be a sure-fire hit! Why he got Jeremy Cullers’ son, Jeremiah, and his friends, Nicholby and Ransom to help him paint and decorate it, don’tcha know. And with the help of Officer McB’s other new invention, the Stanley McBottom Tiger Moth Biplane Christmas Decoration Machine they’ve got a gazillion lights twinkling, twirling, and singing “Santa Baby!”

Now you all know ol’ Maybelle’s a gal who thinks a glass of milk is half full not half empty…well, there’s one more thing that’s making my heart pop. Twindle Mumbly’s twin brother, Stix Tooya, drummer with the rock group, Gastritis, and his whole band are here to play “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” at our Lake W tree lighting ceremony just before the parade starts on Main Street. And I can hardly wait to see them.

Gastritis’ bass player, Cliff Hanger, keyboard player, Bow Wow Epstein, guitarist, Shlemmy Kugelblintz, and my good friend, lead singer, Beans Bendel will all be there.

Hello very much.

Beans??? Oh my goodyness, Beans Bendel is here. How did you get in here?

Through that little door there.

Why I was just writing about you in my column.

Well that is making me very happy, because I came here to wish you very much happiness in this holly jolly season and fruit cake that makes your eyes glow.

Why thank you, Beans. And may all your chapattis be big ones.

And to all of you who are reading this right now … may your heart be as warm as pudding, your feet be as warm as toast, and may you know the peace and joy of kind words and an extended hand…yours, don’tcha know.

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Yer best expert? YOU! don’tcha know

I’ll tell you what makes ol’ Maybelle’s blood boil. It’s so-called experts telling folks things that just aren’t true. I’m talking about major general-citations, don’tcha know.

Like: Everybody needs to get SEVEN hours of sleep a night. Wait a minute!

EVERY BODY?

You? Me? Vilma Yuccch? Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom? Beanpole Starkman? Stix Tooya? Beans Bendel? Brad Pitt? Angelina Jolly? Everyone in the Lake WhaddyathinkImean telephone book? And everybody on our whole planet including Bogart?

I don’t think so.

Why we’re all as different as a bee and a porpoise. A rooster and a BMW.

Lindsay Lohan and common sense, don’tcha know.

We may all be part of the same flock with red blood runnin’ through our arteriors. And we may all have one nose, two eyes, and a belly that sags when we let it … but we’re NOT a flock of sheep, we’re humans. Un-numbered, free-spirited IN-DEE-VI-DUALS.

Why when poor Vilma read about some “expert” saying she needed SEVEN hours of sleep, the poor girl thought she was going to expire like spoilt milk. You see, Vilma was good fer sleepin’ a whole EIGHT hours a night. Now, she can’t sleep a wink from worryin’ about sleepin’ TOO MUCH!

Who are these people? Where do they come up with these wild procrastinations?

Uh, protestations? Hibernations? Oh you get my drift.

Then there are these so-called experts who tell us salt’s bad fer you. Well, fer some folks it probably is. But, just like us humans, not ALL salt is the same.

You got yer refined table salt that’s had all the good stuff taken out of it, then bleached, and other things added to it. And you got yer natural sea salts. All kinds of ‘em, including Himalayan organic salt that’s chuck full of minerals that our body needs, don’tcha know.

Too bad so much of the bleached kind is put into so many of our packaged foods. So you got to make sure yer not only reading BETWEEN the lines, yer reading the lines THEMSELVES!

Same with coffee. Now they’re saying it may lower yer risk of liver and colon cancer. And that’s peachy keen. But seein’ as how caffeine stays in yer system fer up to 12 HOURS … some folks, like yers truly, would be the rooster wakin’ up Lake WhaddyathinkImean at TWO O’CLOCK in the morning!

Why I can’t help but think that some of these “experts” must think we’re just plain stupid! Well, ol’ Maybelle will have none of it. I’ll make up my own mind, thank you. And when it comes to how much sleep I am needing or what I should or shouldn’t be eating…

Why the last time I slept seven hours I felt like I was swimming through molasses the whole next day. You see, I’m good with SIX hours sleep a night. Seven and you might as well plant me in the ground and water my head.

Coffee doesn’t agree with me neither. Why the last time I drank coffee I couldn’t stop blabbing through the music on my radio show and I stayed up all night watching the numbers on my blood pressure gizmo bounce up and down like the Dow Jones, don’tcha know.

As fer eatin’ salt, I stick to what’s natural and in small amounts. And my body likes it.

Now that’s just me. And that’s my point.  I listen to my OWN body. Cause I figure…if I’m feeling full of life and free of aches and ughs, then I must be doin’ something right. If I’m not, I follow my late Auntie Hester’s advice and surf the Net.

And boy if I don’t find all kinds of information that gives me a good circumspection, don’tcha know. Sure, I show it to my doctor. But the bottom line is … it’s what makes sense to ME that counts.

After all, who knows how ol’ Maybelle’s feeling better than ol’ Maybelle?

Til next time, keep smiling. And if you can’t crack a smile, then crack a joke. Why THAT’s good fer EVERY BODY, don’tcha know.

Nightie night.

Maybelle

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Look! Heroes in our own backyard!

I don’t know about you, but ol’ Maybelle’s gettin’ plum impatient with the likes of Tom Cruising, Angelina Jolly, and Bruce Willyuss gettin’ all the attention fer being action heroes in the movies when we’ve got REAL action heroes right here in Lake WhaddyathinkImean, don’tcha know.

Like my good friend, Vilma Yuccch.

Why even when she’s busy with her tie-dye sleeves business, she’s busy bein’ a volunteer firefighter. That’s right! Vilma’s got a walkie talky contrapulation stuck to the end of her arm. Why that girl’s on call 24/7!

Sure it kin ring smack in the middle of kissing her significant smother, uh, OTHER…Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom. But a call fer help, and Vilma’s there in a nano-second. And oh boy, is McBottom ever proud of her.

Twindle Mumbly volunteers, too. Why he kin be taxidermy-ing a cow when his emergency contrapulation goes off. And sure enough, if he doesn’t jump into his volunteer emergency ambulance right out back of his B&B and Taxidermy to take somebody to a heli-port or hospitable, don’tcha know.

Even Beanpole Starkman volunteers. Why every fall he drives his Tiger Moth bi-plane down Main Street in the Thanksgiving parade…as a FLOAT! And oh how the kids roar when they see a real live scarecrow driving it.

Then there are all those folks who give their time sprucing up the village with flowers, pumpkins, and cornstalks each year. Just thinking about all that organizing makes ol’ Maybelle’s eyes swirl.

And how about the Lake WhaddyathinkImean Leegion gals who make the best finger sandwiches and hot meals, cakes and cookies fer community socials and the like.

And the folks who sort and sell things at the Lily Ann. Who bring supplies to the food bank. Who paddle their canoe at the award-winning volunteer radio station in Holyburton. Who do a gazillion helpful things at all of our Lake W events.

And just think about all the Lake WhaddyathinkImean-tonians who play in the Wind Simfanny, the Swingin’ Band, and who act in our summer plays.

Why you shoulda seen Officer McB and Vilma Yuccch in Streetcar Called Desirable. Him yelling: Stellaaaaaaaaa! And Vilma forgetting being in a play and yelling back: Stanley, it’s VILMA!!!  The audience sure liked that.

And good ol’ Liam McDougal from the post office.  He gave Dustin Hofferman a run fer his money in Phantom of the Oprah. Or was it Death of a Salesperson?

Plus the good folks who make people smile at our Lake W retirement home and hospitable…storytelling, strumming guitars, or just talking to folks who have nobody else to talk to.

You might say, Maybelle, it sounds like practically everybody in Lake W is a volunteer.  And I’d be saying… it’s a real come-UNITY here. Lots of people taking turns being each other’s best friend, uh…HERO!

Now, if I sound a bit gushy it’s just cause I’m proud to be where the REAL action heroes are alive and well and living…right here in Lake WhaddaythinkImean!

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Lake WhaddyathinkImean’s Balls-a-flyin’ Fun Raiser, don’tcha know

Boy oh boy, the excitement from our Bowl-to-swim-a-thon yesterday here in Lake WhaddyathinkImean is still thick as pudding and sweet as molasses. Everybody came out to Clarisse and Charlie Crumcatcher’s Balls-A-Flyin Bowlin Alley, just off Main Street on Willie Lane next to Hair-So-High beauty and toe-nail clipping parlor, don’tcha know.

Some folks came to watch and cheer fer the teams. Others were a-throwin’ balls, raising money fer something we need real bad here in Lake W … a community swimming pool!

That’s right. We got so many folks with Arthur-itis, new knee caps and hip problems and no place to exercise them in the winter, don’tcha know.  And we all know how good swimming is fer that.

Why we don’t even have an indoor mall where folks can walk about in. And the roads are just too icy to be driving an hour away to go swimming in some other community’s swimming pool or to go walk in some strange mall, don’tcha know.

And that’s not all. We also have too many kids who don’t know how to swim. That’s right. And we need to, living next to the biggest lake in the county. Plus, it’s just a good healthy way to spend time with family and friends.

So our Lake WhaddyathinkImean Balls-a-flyin Fun Raiser was just the right way to get us closer to getting that pool.

Now I could tell that Beanpole Starkman was there before I even set foot in the place, cause his Tiger Moth bi-plane was parked right next to Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom’s police cruiser.

Even Bogart was there to roll some balls for the cause. After all, he’s not just a furry face, don’tcha know.

All told, we had us 4 teams with 6 players on each. We called our team, the Missfits. Kinda revolusionary like teenagers.

Vilma Yuccch tie-dyed her hair for the occasion…pink and green and purple. Officer Stanley McBottom wore a bowling shirt he got at the Sally Ann with somebody else’s name on it.  Folks kept calling him Burt all day long.

Burt! Wow, a strike!…or Burt! Get yer Dr. Pepper out of my poutine!

Twindle Mumbly kept tripping over the glow-in-the-dark shoe laces on his rented bowling shoes… and I think the ghost that’s living in his bungalow came to the bowling alley with him, cause every time he rolled a ball, it went right between the pins. Every time! Poor Twindle got so fluster-ated he threw himself down the alley and knocked down all 5 pins with his head!

Well, when Bogart saw that he growled so loud it set the disco ball a-turning and the confetti buckets to rain down from the ceiling all over the mini-cupkakes Clarisse and  Charlie Crumcatcher were passing out.

The kids went crazy, screaming with laughter, and that’s when it broke out into a FUN raiser and everybody just started dancing.

Sybil Beaucannon Hughes set herself on the laps of every buffed volunteer firefighter there and then locked lips with her favorite resident, Neville … her husband of forty-seven years.

Balls-a-flyin’, friends a-laughin’…confetti, sticky cupcake frosting fingers, poutine, soda pops, raffle tickets, donated prizes…and in the end we raised $3,500 dollars more than we had before we started.

We just may get that swimming pool yet!

Nightie night.  Maybelle

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