---- — Summer is great. I’ve never hidden my affinity for the hot days and warm nights and all that the season has to offer. Whether it’s doing the tedious outdoor jobs around the house or walking along the river with your dog, summer makes everything that much more enjoyable.

When I returned last week from Clearwater Beach, Fla., some of my co-workers said it was hotter in Mercer County than it was on the Gulf. I was dismayed that my friends were complaining.

Did they forget the ice and snow of January and February when you need a hat, gloves and a coat to go to the mailbox? Would they rather be mowing grass or shoveling their driveways (which at times when you get to the end, it’s really only the beginning)?

Having a small backyard with little sunlight because of the trees limits my ability to have a garden of any kind. But the showers and warmth of summer enable a bounty of fresh fruits and vegetables. Farmer’s markets and roadside stands begin to abound this time of year, and everyone has a favorite.

Mine is the produce stand of Ron Boles on Ridge Avenue in Sharpsville. He re-opened for the season before I left for vacation. I stopped by for the first time yesterday, and plan to have my fill of his delicious sweet corn and other veggies before he sadly closes for another season around Labor Day.

Enjoy the summer, and who knows, maybe I’ll bump into you at Ron’s.

The editor’s mailbag

I got the following from Sandy Sherbondy of Greenville after a column on memories of traveling the turnpike as a child:

“Your column on the Pennsylvania Turnpike transported me to a much more innocent time ... before seatbelts, bucket seats, air bags and cell phones. A time when the new turnpike was considered such a marvel it was called ‘The Dream Highway.’ The tunnels were architectural wonders with fanciful names, full of mystery and daring.

“Mom was always the driver, capable of doing a much better job, somehow, than dad. She propelled our green (some years it was tan) Oldsmobile down that highway with a confidence unknown to many women in that day ...

“I was a daughter, granddaughter and a sister, and secure in each of those roles. But life does not remain static. Now I am the only survivor of those family turnpike trips ... your column resurrected these memories and brought a smile to my heart.”

A recent column about hot dogs, hamburgers and ethnic foods when I was growing up in an Italian family prompted this response from my cousin, Rick Lenzi of Hubbard:

“Read your article today and could not help but remember all the Fourth of July picnics we had at Pymatuning. I have a pontoon at the Outboard Motor Club and every time I drive by the Yacht Club I can still see our dads and Grandpa Lenzi fishing off the highway there. Great times. I remember the spot we used to have the picnics just above the Jamestown Livery, and of the course, the treat coming home was stopping at the ice cream place in Greenville (Zuschlag’s). Wow how the years flew by ...”

I got a note from Monica Zipay of Sharon after a column about Brady, my golden retriever. With it was a message making the rounds on the Internet through the eyes of a youngster whose dog was put to sleep.

That story, quoted here in part, offered this advice for humans, who could take a few tips from their furry friends.

“Take naps. Stretch before rising. Run, romp and play daily. Thrive on attention and let people touch you. Avoid biting when a simple growl will do. On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass. On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree. When you’re happy, dance around and wag your entire body. Delight in the simple joy of a long walk. Be loyal. Never pretend to be something you’re not. If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it. When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.”

Rest in peace, my friends

The city of Farrell last week lost two people whom I have known for a long time with the passing of Mary Tolone Santell and Nick “Perp” Scarmack.

Perp, 92, always will be remembered as one of the most rabid fans of Farrell High basketball during the glory years of the 1950s and 1960s as well as a bocce enthusiast in his later yars.

Mary, 84, was the mom of high school friend Joe Santell, who is Farrell’s fire chief. She and her husband Joe ran Santell’s Shoe Repair and Gift Shop at Idaho Street and Hamilton Avenue for many years, and was one of my favorite hangouts as a kid.

The shop was one of the stops on my Herald paper route, and I’ll never forget how anxious Joe’s mom was to get her hands on that day’s newspaper and glance at the front page. I always made it my first stop, and when I was finished delivering papers for the afternoon, it was usually my last.



Jim Raykie is the editor of The Herald and his column appears on Mondays. His e-mail is jraykie@sharonherald.com or you can find him on Facebook at www.facebook.com