by Roy Hodge
I recently jotted down dates of some of the columns I have written about summer.
July, 1979: “When the phone rang before 6 a.m. one day last week it was a sure sign that summer vacation had started. It was Adam’s friend Peter on the phone.
“‘Is Adam there?’ Peter asked. ‘Not at six o’clock in the morning,’ Adam’s mother answered. ‘We’re going fishing,’ Peter said. ‘Not at six o’clock in the morning,’ Adam’s mother repeated.
“‘Call back at nine and you can go fishing then.’ He did and they did. Summer vacation was officially underway.”
Later that month I wrote, “If you’ve been bothered by the recent 90-degree weather you might derive some pleasure by thinking back on the ten feet of snow that covered your yard and the rest of Fulton a mere four or five months ago.”
In July, 1980 I was reviewing some “hot weather words.”
“When it’s hot for more than one day it ceases to be hot. It’s a scorcher, a sizzler, watch out for the blazing heat, and it might even get torrid. Sultry is another favorite; it almost always reaches sultry levels after a couple of days of high temperatures.
“Then the heat becomes tropical. Culinary terms are also big. Every July we cook, bake, broil, boil, roast and simmer. Soon the just plain heat of a few days ago becomes searing heat, blistering heat, and parching heat. By then it’s hotter than blazes, and we’re all smoldering.”
July 23, 1981: “Beware midnight snackers – that bowl in the front of the refrigerator isn’t chocolate pudding. It’s a nice fresh batch of night crawlers ready for tomorrow’s fishing trip.”
June 29, 1982: “’Twas the first day of summer vacation, there was a feeling of gloom;
“For the first time in weeks I was alone in the bathroom.”
And, in August, 1988, I was “playing games with the weather:”
“We do strange things. We don’t particularly like the weather when it gets too hot or too cold. But we don’t want anyone else to be able to say that they get hotter or colder weather than we do.
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