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Monday is Memorial Day, the first big summertime celebration, although I still have a hard time dealing with a Memorial Day that doesn’t fall on May 30.
There’s no denying that we who live in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, especially in the greater Puget Sound area, go a bit nuts when summer comes early, as it has just done.
The first column I ever wrote for the South Whidbey Record was about rhubarb, and it appeared on May 9, many years ago.
Eating one’s words. It’s not the first time nor, I suspect, will it be the last, but I am here today to eat my words; not all of them, just a paragraph or two. Corrections are in order whether or not you even care about the topic.
Heaven scent. There’s something new in the air, something that smells of new-mown grass, with overtones of tree blossoms, and just a hint of holiness.
During all the years you’ve been sipping a Coke, or swallowing a cold Pepsi, did you ever think about cancer as you drank? Of course not; why would you?
We’re all familiar with pull dates on food, something that didn’t exist when I was first learning to buy our daily bread, and all else at the grocery store.
What are you planning to do with your extra day today? Something special, I hope. After all, it only comes our way once every four years and somehow it just shouldn’t be another routine, ho-hum day.
Today, as I’m sure you’ve noted, is Ash Wednesday. If you’re not Christian, it matters little, although similar periods of fasting and inner evaluation also occur in other religions.
It’s that time of year again. No, I’m not talking about rain, snow, sleet or hail, nor February weather in general.
February, as you may already know, is National American Heart Month, and one of the most important days of February, Valentine’s Day, also has to do with hearts. Candy hearts, flower hearts, heart-shaped pillows, T-shirts covered with message-filled hearts; everywhere you look now and for the next week or so, you’ll be seeing hearts of all types, shapes and sizes.
It began yesterday, the Chinese Year of the Dragon, one of the strongest signs of the Chinese calendar. But if you’re a Dragon yourself, or are closely acquainted with a Dragon, you already know that.
My bedtime reading has changed considerably. I used to fall asleep, my paperback book falling to the floor beside the bed, or ending up somewhere in the bedclothes with me.
Whether you’re Christian, agnostic, Muslim, pagan, Jewish, Druid, atheist, Buddhist, Catholic, Protestant, Mormon, Seventh Day Adventist, or any other appellation you can come up with, it really shouldn’t matter when it’s the holiday season (or any other time, as far as I’m concerned.)
Most of us who’ve been fortunate enough to grow up in close and loving families have some very strong traditions associated with the holiday season, things large or small that we must have or do, no matter what else happens.
It’s been a rough November, friends and not only because of the weather. The world is a mess, or so it seems when we read or listen to the news.
Here we are, on the eve of Thanksgiving, wondering how that came to be when Halloween was only last week. Forget that old saw, “Time flies when you’re having fun” — the truth is time flies whether you’re having fun or not.
I have a Thanksgiving question that some of our readers may be able to answer for me.
The bad news hit newspapers throughout the country last week and it’s no small peanuts (sorry).
They suddenly appeared last week, by the hundreds; from small enough to hold in one hand to huge, round whoppers; all of them a beautiful bright orange.