Ihad a typo the first of the month when writing some friends, “Welcome August.” I typed “Augast.” I quickly corrected the mistake. But in no time, I found myself making a word play, saying “I am aghast that it is August.”

How could the summer be two-thirds gone. For myself, I've had no “summer.” A huge chunk of it was spent in medical facilities with Terry's emergency monster spine surgery and his emerging recovery. Before that — his mobility plunging for puzzling reasons — we were canceling one event after another.

There were no picnics. There was no camping. There were no trips to visit family and friends. Even now summer is becoming expendable. The talk is “turning color” — thinking about what comes with autumn. As if enough hasn't happened, we are moving. Our “roomies,” who own the p

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