Sharon Kennedy The timothy has gone to seed. The goldenrod is in full bloom. Queen Anne’s Lace unfolds in the warmth of the mid-morning sun. Black-eyed Susans fill the ditches. Robins have left without a word of farewell. The Chippewa County Fair is only a memory. Another school year has…
by Sharon M. Kennedy Sixty-five years ago my sister decided to give me a good scare. Jude and I didn’t have much in common. She loved the barn and I was a housecat. She loved Elvis. I liked Faron Young. I read books. Jude subscribed to motion picture magazines. I…
by Sharon M. Kennedy I love doilies. Even the spelling of the word looks ridiculous, but that doesn’t change how I feel about the lacy little darlings I have scattered around my home. When I was young I used to tell Mom I was born in the wrong century or…
by Sharon M. Kennedy I’m all gussied up in my First Communion clothes. My dress and veil and lacy white socks are beautiful, but I look the same as every Sunday morning—ugly. My curly hair looks ridiculous. My dress has short sleeves so everybody will see my hairy arms, and…
Sharon and Jude with Topsy the dog My sister, Jude, did her best to entertain my brother and me, but she wasn’t always successful. Asking us to climb in a wagon is one example of a “good time” that backfired. She probably intended to pull us up and down our…
By Sharon M. Kennedy Mom with one of our Herefords August has a special feel to it, unmatched by any other month. The lazy dog days melt seamlessly into one another until it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. At least, that’s the way it was…
by Sharon M. Kennedy Dad putting up hay in the mow The fragrant fields are almost quiet now. Soon tractors, rakes, balers, and hay wagons will get a rest and reprieve until once again called into action. Bales of timothy are stacked almost to the barn rafters and thousands more…
By Sharon M. KennedyMom often told me that with all the dental work in her mouth she was worth more dead than alive. I used to laugh when she said that, but now I understand. I’m nearing an age when I’m deciding what to do with my assets, and I’ve…
Beaver dam — Front door I’ll make this short. Everyone in the U.P. is complaining about the heat as they sit in their air-conditioned homes, ride in their air-conditioned cars, or dine at their favorite air-conditioned restaurants. Consider yourselves lucky. You could be as busy as the Yooper beavers who…
by Sharon M. Kennedy Our front yard and some of the players When I was young, July was one of those lazy months in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula when nothing much happened on the sideroad except our nightly softball games. Once the 4th was over and our sparklers were only memories,…
by Sharon M. Kennedy A long time ago I watched a documentary that compared the eating habits of rats to humans. Rats were given a breakfast choice between apples and donuts. In every case, the rats chose the donuts. That may sound disgusting if you’re enjoying your breakfast, but I’m…
by Sharon M. Kennedy It was the Fourth of July, 1958, and my sister kept feeding the woodstove chunks of maple and birch until the kitchen was so hot you could have fried an egg on the floor. The kitchen was always hot in those days because the woodstove was…
By Sharon M. Kennedy Author’s Note: This was the last “Opinion” I wrote for the Bay Mills News, a monthly newspaper in Brimley, MI that ran my opinion pieces for years. When I submitted this a couple of weeks prior to the 2020 election, I told the editor I simply…
by Sharon M. Kennedy A number of years ago, a good buddy of mine from Grand Marais stopped by for a few minutes on his way to a friend’s house. He had spent a miserable night in Newberry and driven through blinding rain on M-28 which put him in a…
by Sharon M. Kennedy Microwave ovens are as common in kitchens of today as flies were in kitchens of yesterday. The convenience of such an electronic device cannot be denied. It’s reported they use less energy than a stovetop or regular oven. They take mere seconds to reheat a beverage…
Life void of rules would be a chaotic mess. Just ask Mr. Robert. According to him, “The object of Rules of Order is to assist an assembly to accomplish the work for which it was designed.” Obviously, members of Congress have never read his book, but I won’t address that…
My desk calendar tells me today is the first day of summer. It’s been a long time coming to the eastern end of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. With temperatures dipping to 30 then rising to 80 within a few hours, most residents wondered if summer would ever get here and stick…
This article appeared once in the Brimley High School newspaper in the 1960s. Columnist Ann Landers has said it originally appeared in the Stars & Stripes newspaper, a US Armed Forces publication. Reprints have appeared in Dear Abby and many other syndicated columns. Stew Consentino, a Viet Nam vet, simply…
by Sharon M. Kennedy If your kitchen table is like mine, it grows stuff. No matter how hard I try to keep it tidy, it refuses to cooperate. Unopened mail, yesterday’s newspaper, Avon brochures, magazines, bills, cookbooks, condiments, and miscellaneous items litter without the slightest apology. My morning table might…
By Sharon M. Kennedy Today’s kids have no idea what it’s like to pound the keys of a manual typewriter. They’ve never heard the sharp ding announcing the approach of the right margin, and they’ve certainly never gotten their fingers black or red while untangling a wayward ribbon. They know…
by Sharon M. Kennedy Recently I was talking with a writer friend, Jill Brumwell, who spends much of the summer at her home on Drummond Island. She’s one of those gals who has the innate ability to make people laugh without even trying. She cracks me up with some of…
by Sharon M. Kennedy The summer of 1960 must have been slow and boring. I didn’t have any friends on the Brimley sideroad. I was too old to play with dolls and too young to appreciate the music of Elvis. I had stopped keeping an account of our daily activities…
by Sharon M. Kennedy When I was a youngster, the kitchen radio was always tuned to the only American station we could get during the daytime, WSOO-AM. I remember trying to dance to the music of Hank Williams, Kitty Wells, Red Foley, and lots of other country singers. Whenever the…
By Sharon M. Kennedy Seventy-five years ago today I came into this madhouse we call the world. Mom used to say it was a “beautiful spring morning” and although Dad would have welcomed a son, he settled for me. I looked just like him. I was going to post a…
by Sharon M. Kennedy When you can’t find what you’re looking for, check the jumbled mess in your kitchen junk drawer. We all have one, that special drawer where we throw things when we don’t know where else to put them. Mine is stuffed with assorted lids, rubber bands, twisty…
