So, here I am again. I missed you all.

When my editor, Steve, asked me the other day if I might be interested in writing my column again, I said: “Um, let me think about it. Ummm, Okay.” (When you get to my stage in life — I’m now a great-gramma — time isn’t for wasting.)

He then asked if I’d need some time to think about some columns, and I said: “No. You can take the writer out of the paper, but you can’t take the writer out of the writer.”

I haven’t missed the pressure of deadlines, but whenever an idea pops into my head, I’m off and running. I’ve stored up “columns” for the day I get my “Country Stuff” web page going. That’ll be awhile yet, as I have thoroughly taken to this being retired thing. I’ve become very good at doing nothing — whenever I want to. Now if I could just figure a way to make it pay…

So since the other day, I’ve mused on the old saw: “What goes ‘round, comes ‘round.” Life is full of things that circle around, things that come back into use, back into style. Some should never have gone out of use, and some should never have been in use in the first place.

My house has more of the come ‘round things than it has new things. Just looking around my living room, there are my kerosene lamps and wood stove, like I grew up with on the farm in the 1930’s and 40’s. And there’s the Singer treadle sewing machine that I got from Uncle Henry’s. Made in 1896, it’s the same model I learned to sew on when I was a little girl.

In my kitchen, I have an enamel topped table that was bought about 1918-19 (not by me!). I have a Hoosier Hutch that dates back to the ‘30’s. (It’s not one of the big oak ones or I might be tempted to sell it against this winter’s fuel oil. It’s a more humble one made of pine and painted white.)

But what a marvel of design! The top and bottom cabinets are divided with an enameled work top that slides out when needed for a work space, like making pies, and pushes back when not needed. Originally, it had a flour bin/sifter in the left, top cabinet and a swiveling sugar bowl and spice jars in the right-hand cabinet.

The middle cabinet has a glass front for showing off “pretties.” The bottom of the hutch has two silverware size drawers in the middle, with two deeper drawers on the sides. One I use for storing potatoes, the other is a built in breadbox.

Under those are two swing-out doors that open to pots and pans space — and lid racks. These Hoosier Hutches pretty much made up the kitchen before kitchens morphed into banks of cabinets. If I had to give up one or the other, you know which I’d keep.

A trip through the supermarket these days is a bit frightening. Prices are skyrocketing by dollar amounts, not cents. I buy a lot from my little village store now. It may cost a few cents more than in town, but that’s more than made up for in gas savings.

Besides, I really like my village store. It’s so like the stores we had up in the farm days: gas, kindling — and deer tagging — out front; inside, groceries and “spirits” down the middle, milk, juice, beer in the cooler down the right side, hardware, automotive on the left, meat and veggie cases down back; hot coffee, tables and hot foods — like “homemade” lasagna — down back, where “the regulars” gather for breakfast or at noon or mid-afternoon for good natured bantering and working on the daily crossword puzzle together. (Sure beats tramping miles around the supermarket.) Then there’s the animal feed — cow, rabbit, chicken, even deer pellets, out back.

With the unsettling economy, people are turning back to more independent ways, like growing or enlarging gardens to provide, not just food, but some semblance of security.

I tried a straw-bale garden this year. It worked pretty good, especially since it’s raised a foot-and-a-half off the ground, I could comfortably reach it. (The ground gets further away each year.)

I also have farm fresh eggs and vegetables delivered to my doorstep every week from a local farmer down the road a piece. Not only are they 100 percent fresher and better-tasting, it’s just plain fun to just step out on my porch and bring in groceries. It’s been decades since I’ve had home delivery of groceries available.

I’ve rediscovered the advantage, both for cooking and for health, of rendering my own lard, like Grammie Tucker did, although I’m happy to be able to buy the fat back from a farmer rather than processing a freshly butchered pig. I get organic fat back. It makes a snow-white lard. Put up in canning jars, one session give me enough for three to four months.

I do the same with butter, “putting up” about six to eight pints at a time. This is called “ghee,” an ancient — and new — way of preserving butter. Both the ghee and the lard stay good for months. And I like just reaching in the pantry for a jar of “butter” rather than making a run to the store.

I also make laundry soap. It’s quick and easy and at two gallons a time, lasts me months. It also costs about one-fifth that of “store-bought,” which you all but have to take a loan out to afford.

Another thing that’s trying to make a comeback is the colored appliances, pink and pale turquoise. Remember those? I don’t think they’ll catch on. They were bad the first time around back in the ‘60’s. Since then, they’ve gone back to white, then stainless steel and black. The last two are too institutional for me. I stick with the white. Besides, the appliances shouldn’t be the focus of the room.

What I’d really like, though, is an old black Clarion cook stove — with a copper lined water well on the right side, warming oven on top, dish towel/mitten drying rods on the left side, and the toe warming rail on the front.

I have never liked wall-to-wall carpeting. I like the clean, warm look of wood floors with or without an area rug. My house in the ‘60’s had oak floors throughout. Then wall-to-wall came — and shag. Remember shag? That’s one that doesn’t need to bother coming back. But wood floors and area rugs have made a comeback. Not only are they better looking, but an area rug is sure a lot cheaper and easier to replace.

Some things can’t be improved on. Some things were a waste in the first place. But the best things always come ‘round again.

Marion Tucker-Honeycutt, an award-winning columnist, is a Maine native and graduate of Belfast. She now lives in Morrill.