Septober
Thirty days hath Septober April, June, and no wonder All the rest have peanut butter except grandmother, who was a chifferobe. It’s a tall thing with big drawers. Easily fathomed why the sermons are so bad when the mind is so cluttered. Advent Sunday is ominous, apocalyptic, the Time of the End is at hand and the Son of Man is coming suddenly and unexpected, yet the priest thinks about the thirty days of Septober. Growing up, my next door neighbor was Bill Guy. His mother Mary Elizabeth Burgin Guy was a character who brought home rhymes and ditties, “Septober” being one, often spicy limericks, and sometimes jokes we didn’t get because we were too young to understand what body parts the terms referred to. She told them to Bill, who brought them outside. We did not take them home. Brunette who chose platinum blond, MEBG was raised in Tuscaloosa and was said to have been a vivacious and popular cheerleader or majorette at the University of Alabama. Linda’s parents kn...