Mr. Bag Lady is attempting to replace the bathroom light switches as I type this.

At the risk of being crass, I just relayed to him that my electrical knowledge begins and ends at peeing in the dark and not peeing in the dark. So, between the two of us, he’s clearly the man for this job.

Let’s gingerly walk through this week keeping our ears pricked for dammits, aghhs! and zzzzaps!

$179? Ayuh

I’m already wearing O’Keefe’s on my hands (5.4 oz., Walmart, $9.94), more O’Keefe’s on my heels (2.7 oz., Walmart, $5.68) and tromping around in the mud in my L.L.Bean storm chaser slip-ons ($109), but in case that’s not all quite Maine enough, Shopping Siren this week spied something to add to our wardrobes.

Designer Todd Snyder has a new collaboration with L.L.Bean and the Peanuts brand featuring Snoopy on a series of sweatshirts for $149-$179 each doing Maine things like cutting wood, camping and climbing Mt. Katahdin with Woodstock. The text says things like “Maine-ah,” “Happy Camp-ah and “From Away.”

If you’re wondering what separates a $149 sweatshirt from a $179 sweatshirt, it’s a hood. Ayuh.

Gasping in the aisle

Since the start of the pandemic, Bag Lady has not been able to find Cain’s tartar sauce, to my great horror. Oh, I had theories. Maybe someone was hoarding it along with the toilet paper. Maybe the Cain’s plant was tapped to make life-saving PPE. Maybe I just needed to suck it up because while others were out risking their necks, I was bemoaning the loss of my tartar sauce, and really, cry me a river because your haddock sucks.

Then, a few weeks ago, I found it and literally gasped in the aisle.

I bought three jars, and sorry, no, I am not telling you where, but just know that it’s out there. If you’ve also been missing it, keep questing.

Gasping, take two

We added another binged show to our list this week and watched with jaws dropped. It’s HBO’s “The Vow,” which starts slow with an hour of happy empowerment and volleyball playing before plunging into eight hours of betrayal, brands and all sorts of well-documented awfulness as Keith Raniere and his NXIVM cult topple.

Seeing why he got 120 years in prison is not happy viewing, but it is a testament to the power of people speaking out.

Now for a palate cleanser, as it were.

Tumbleweed junction

After decades of choking down omelettes with taste and consistency of wool socks, last week I discovered an amazing recipe that *spoiler alert* starts with two tablespoons of butter. Sorry/not sorry, arteries. It seems the key, in addition to the mound of butter, is letting the entire thing fan out in a medium-sized pan and making sure the obvious pools of raw egg dribble to the side, leaving the top slightly moist/uncooked when you add toppings, fold it and call it a delicious day.

The slightly moist/uncooked state of affairs is, I’ll admit, very uncomfortable. My M.O. has been to cook out every speck of moisture until tumbleweeds skitter across the top, hence the wool socks. It’s a brave new breakfast world.

If Bag Lady isn’t here in two weeks, you’ll know I flew too high to the salmonella sun.

Advice wanted. No, really.

After starting at 2010 last March, I’ve nearly run out of Washington Post advice columnist Carolyn Hax’s archives to read at night! Please send alternative recommendations ASAP.

And with that, let there be light! The bathroom’s all fixed. Mr. Bag Lady’s so good. Haddock and Cains for him.

Bag Lady’s true identity is protected by a pair of stylish, sweater-wearing Doberman pinschers (who are leaving muddy footprints EVERYWHERE) and the customer service counter at the Sun Journal. You can reach her at baglady@sunjournal.com.

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