Why is my phone ringing now?: March 27

No, no, no, no, no … I am not supposed to be getting calls from my parents on Wednesday morning.

But out of nowhere, my phone was ringing and their number was showing. I was so flummoxed, I got all fumble-fingered and hung up.

Meaning I had to call back.

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Making myself at (my old) home: March 20

My bedroom used to be my inner sanctum.

I had my own stereo, my own TV. When my parents got a new chair, I convinced them to let me put the old one in my room. Sure, it was old and pretty ratty, but I had my own chair!

What a difference four years makes … or an hour

I’ve only ever seen the new production of “My Fair Lady,” meaning I only know the version — and its different ending — that I first saw at Lincoln Center in New York and recently saw again at The Bushnell in Hartford.

Seeing it a second time — meaning I obviously knew the ending — I wonder how it could have ever ended any other way.

Yes, I know … it was different in the 1950s.

Am I getting dumber?: March 13

When Suzi and I first started dating — back in the days when the visits were every other weekend or so at her place in Connecticut or mine in New York — she told me she had been on a quiz show as a high-schooler.

And she had videotapes.

So of course I insisted on watching them. I was, of course, enthralled.

Nice, happy stories: March 6

I’m not one to watch Christmas specials in the middle of February, but since America and Great Britain apparently signed a treaty banning any of their shows from showing up here until months later, that was when the season finale of “All Creatures Great and Small” aired.

There were a few moments of mild tension, as there always are, but they got solved, as they always do, and the crew had a happy Christmas.

Lazy weekend

The love seat offers a great view of the clock, which is as handy a reference point as any while I stare aimlessly.

I’m in the living room because our cat Sasha wanted to play, and apparently I’m the only one who properly wields the stick with a toy mouse on the end of a string. She’s sleeping in her bed now.

Someday … someday

I am reminded again of a previous trip to New York City.

Almost two years ago, I wrote about how it had been a year since I had been there, and how I hoped it wouldn’t be another year before going back.

But here we are.

Leaving the luxury

Sometimes, being married comes with its own weird form of telepathy.

For example, knowing I’m a NASCAR, Suzi yelled from another room that I should check out the photos from the house Tony Stewart is selling for $30 million …

… when I had literally just finished doing exactly that.

Yes, it’s weird … but I’m fine

It’s not often Suzi asks me if I’m feeling OK, unless I actually appear to be in distress — after all, she’s the one who convinced me to go to the doctor when I had my gall-bladder attack.

So things must have been really weird when she asked if there was something wrong with me, especially since I was completely fine.

It’s March

If it weren’t for Suzi making bananas Foster — and telling me why she was making bananas Foster — I wouldn’t have had any idea that Mardi Gras is today.

To show how much I pay attention to such things, I thought it was early for Mardi Gras, when in reality it’s actually in February most of the time.

And I usually know when Easter is by someone pointing it out a couple weeks ahead of time.