Summer 2024: Of bright notes and bummers

Summer 2024: A bright note.

May

Bright notes: One pair of geese on the pond had a successful hatch and promptly disappeared with the brood. Two deer ran through the yard as I watched from the sofa.

Bummers: The goose couple that did not have a successful hatch became a bit overwrought with mamma goose finding her only solace perching on the roof of Casa de Weed. One day, the dishwasher started smoking.

June

Bright note: Delicious anniversary pizza was made with a groovy new pizza wheel and fancy meats and cheese. The return of the Great Blue herons to the creek. Season three of The Bear on Hulu.

Bummers: The white peonies I dream about in the thick of each winter’s chill failed to bloom. The hydrangea I planted withered and flatlined. The landscapers topped two of my sprouting peony plants.

July

Bright notes: Delicious paella was enjoyed for The Fourth. A new perfume made me smile. Biden made the announcement.

Bummers: Layla had surgery. It broke everyone’s hearts to see this shy, frightened, loudmouth walking around in a cone of shame. Biden made the announcement. (I can go either bright note or bummer on this. November will tell.)

August

Bright notes: The return of Jamaican jerk burgers to the grill. A quiet week to myself and the dogs while The Weed traveled for work. Recipe tinkering and late-night TV binges of The Bear. Sunflowers from the neighbor who appreciated me watering her garden when she traveled.

Bummers: The tomatoes are coming in with bloom rot. The peppers are flowering but not producing. The Japanese beetles killed the roses. Season four of The Umbrella Academy on Netflix. I relented, bought reading glasses. I look like Elton John. And, finally, COVID.  

For me, summer has always brought pretty great highs and pretty devastating lows. There was the thrill of traveling through Scandinavia one year, seeing snowbanks on the Fourth of July. However, there also have been compound fractures, cancer diagnoses, and the death of family and friends.

This year has proven to be no exception to that seasonal delivery of diverse emotions. Even the day-to-day of household chores was brought to a halt when I came home from walking the dogs to find the kitchen filled with smoke. I thought to myself: ‘We’ve got a new pope, or the dishwasher is done.’ New appliances were shopped, acquired, delivered, wired, rewired, and put to daily use.

The aforementioned reading glasses arrived. The first pair that is. Black, plastic, and entirely too big for me to be taken seriously while wearing them in public. I ordered a new set. They arrived. Silver frame, understated tint. Still, they are too big and make me want to hide each time I have to put them on to see the stupid fine print that seems to get finer with each passing year.

Then, The Weed returned from work travel to a convention in Las Vegas. Of course, he brought with him COVID. For him, it started with terrible congestion, vomiting, and days of fever. For me, the nausea, vomiting, and congestion knocked me flat.

I think we’re both recovering after about a week and a half, but it’s not been an easy stretch. He still wakes at night with bouts of coughing. I can’t stomach much more than avocados and the occasional onion ring.   

Seems like a fitting way to conclude summer 2024, coughing, sputtering, and looking forward to a new season.

Summer 2024: A bummer.