As the saying goes, just when you think you’ve seen/heard it all, along comes another surprise, and this one is over the top.
Now that we’ve celebrated the Fourth of July and, for some, Bastille Day, you may think there’s not much else happening in July to throw a party for, except continuing good weather, of course.
Why does it always seem to be either feast or famine? We go for months without so many things we love, then suddenly, come July, we’re up to our ears in too many good things.
It seems as though it took forever this year, but according to my calendar, “summer is a-comin’ in,” finally.
This morning, about an hour ago, I sat in our “TV-office-all purpose” room, a bowl of freshly hulled, perfectly ripe Bell’s Farm strawberries, topped with a small dollop of Greek yogurt, in my lap, and listening to the Beatles’ “Abbey Road” on our nearby ancient phonograph.
My first love was the epitome of that romantic cliché “tall, dark and handsome.” He was slender, with sky-blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled, which he did often. I fell for him, hard, the first time I saw him.
A quick check of our local markets, both indoor and outdoor, revealed that one of the current major food resources utilized in a great part of the rest of the world is not yet available in our area. Beautiful greens, a wide variety of fresh picked produce, most of it garden fresh and enticingly displayed, but no bugs. Well, not any visible to the naked eye, that is.
It took two very strong men to carry the corpse out of my kitchen, down a flight of stairs and out to the truck that would haul it away to oblivion. I shed no tears, but did have a few moments of nostalgia as I thought of the years we’d spent together. Fortunately, the same two men were able to fill the empty space left behind with a replacement, and within minutes my new refrigerator was humming away, putting a chill on everything.
May has many good things about it; May Day, Mother’s Day, Memorial Day, to note only the major events of the month, along with, hopefully, improving weather. But, there’s another reason to celebrate May, to be happy when it finally arrives, and it has to do with the tide.
There are times, and this is one of them, when words fail me; when I can’t be glib about food, fun, family or fear.
Several decades ago, April was officially designated as National Humor Month, with April 1 being the most humorous day of the month, April Fools’ Day.
The hippocampus is connected to the neuropath, the neuropath’s connected to the cortex, and the cortex is connected to your brain, so hear the word of the brain doctors.
There it is, my humble pie plant, insistent upon telling me it’s spring even as, at this writing, snowflakes are falling on its big, green elephant-ear leaves.
