I deserve a magical summer.
Summers 2010 and ’11 really “Hoovered” (or, more expensively, “Orecked” or “Dysoned”).
Both summers I spent every minute in the hospital, or rehab, or recovering from cataract or kidney surgeries. Yecchhhh!
I’ve enjoyed magic summers before. Usually, nature signals that something rare and exceptional is headed our way.
In 1968, my friend Sharon and I cruised up Route 56 at
8 p.m. on Good Friday. The bank thermometer reported 68 degrees. 68 on an early April night, windows down, summer clothes … magic!
The first time I ever had to cut grass before Daylight Saving Time was in 1987.
That year, we delighted in another “non-winter,” much like the one we just had.
Abundant grass and flowers foretold a hot, humid summer full of fun and adventure, and for me, good fortune.
Let me confess … to the “mind-bogglement” of my friends, I love heat and humidity. I suspect I was a lizard in another life.
So here we are, summer 2012, and Mother Nature is frantically flagging me … a summer of wonder and enchantment has arrived. An ultra-mild winter brought a super-early spring. My crocuses cautiously peeped out in March. The lilacs bloomed in April.
I don’t ever recall such lush foliage, brilliant flowers and seemingly everything flourishing.
Don’t believe me? Drive up (or down) Floyd Street in Southmont. It’ll leave you breathless!
Birds seem more abundant, too, and more vocal. Perhaps they have more to sing about.
That can wear thin, though.
On Sunday, one monotone bird droned his single note for nearly three hours. It’s a wonder he didn’t turn blue and fall off his perch.
Lightning bugs have thrived, too. I’ve seen 75-watt lightning bugs with the wingspans of commuter planes frolicking in my yard. I love it!
To add to the revelry, thus far summer has been almost “skunk-less” (maybe the lightning bugs ate them). I haven’t detected one nasty sniff.
My gladiolus (apparently a skunk delicacy) sighed in relief.
I suspect wood nymphs driving a Greyhound bus transported the little stinkers to a mountaintop somewhere to give us homeowners a rest.
Alas, as I write this, skunk orgies are probably producing hordes of “skunklets” to invade us next summer!
I understand the bat population has swollen, too. Many folks are having problems with these “nonrenters” moving in.
I deserve a magical summer.
- Michele Bender
A sonnet? Doggone it!
I’m a gal of many talents,
Though lots of folks don’t know it.
MICHELE M. BENDER | Not another ‘for sale’ sign
I suspect that goblins fly over Johnstown at night sprinkling “For Sale” sign seeds. Weather doesn’t seem to hamper the growth process; signs are popping out everywhere.
Clear the aisles! I’m back in the saddle again
Study this face carefully. If you ever … EVER … see me in your checkout line (with my walker or an electric cart), RUN … do not walk … RUN the other way.
MICHELE M. BENDER | What lurks in your closet?
Ladies wrote this summer reminding me that the struggle for brand-name dominance in fashion began in the ’60s and ’70s. Everyone knew that Audrey wore Givenchy. Brooke posed provocatively in magazines wearing “only her Calvins.”
MICHELE M. BENDER | Warm and fuzzy
Well, “we had us” a summer! Probably not the one most people waited for, but chilly temps won’t stop customers in relentless pursuit of that last pierogi, funnel cake or halupki.
MICHELE M. BENDER | Geezer justice rules
My car, Bailey Bender (a PT Cruiser), will celebrate his 10th birthday on Sept. 13. I’ve named almost every car I’ve ever owned.
Hearts, souls and rock ’n’ roll
When it comes to music, Johnstowners have passion! In July, I asked folks to select their favorite rock ’n’ roll love song. Your feedback overwhelmed me.
- MICHELE M. BENDER | Can we talk?
- MICHELE M. BENDER | Jubilee magic lingers
MICHEL M. BENDER | Rock ’n’ roll hearts
In the ’70s, everyone I knew was getting married. Some of us did it more than once.
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- A sonnet? Doggone it!