Pam Stone

Dear Aunty Pam, I have a real dilemma, and I hope you can take the time to help me. I am in my mid-70s, and my eldest son is about to get married for the second time in a couple of weeks.

“Why do you suppose they do it?” I queried Paul as he was vigorously soaping Poppy's neck in the bathtub. “What is it about a pile of horse manure, or something dead and decomposing, that acts as a magnet for a dog to roll in it?”

Dear Aunty Pam, I am hoping you can give me some of your sage advice about my eldest daughter. She's the only one of my five children who is yet to be married.

It may be that open season has been called against me, at least by insects this week.

I may have inadvertently just lost one of my dear old friends, and I am just sick about it. I hope you can help.

When the albeit smaller news story appeared that Irish singer/songwriter Glen Hansard had died as the result of a motorcycle crash outside Dublin, my interest was piqued.

Dear Aunty Pam, I'm in a right mess, and I feel so bad. I sure hope you can help me! I have a long-time friend who I'll call Shirley.

“Not everyone can do EVERYTHING well,” stressed one of my grade school teachers. “But everyone can do SOMETHING well.”

“Not everyone can do EVERYTHING well,” stressed one of my grade-school teachers. “But everyone can do SOMETHING well.”

DEAR AUNTY PAM: My wife is embarrassing me half to death and I need you to help me get her to quit. About once a month, she and a couple