Last week was “one of those weeks.”

A week during which I wondered if I had been cursed by the gods or if a mischievous gremlin had taken up residence in my home.

The trip into the Twilight Zone began last Wednesday when I returned home from shopping.

I wear prescription sunglasses while driving and take them off when I unload the groceries on the kitchen table.

That was the last I saw the sunglasses.

When I needed them next, I looked on the table, in the car, on the lawn, in the bedrooms and in the living and dining rooms - anywhere and everywhere.

By Friday, I was at wit’s end.

A former Lehigh Valley Press editor once told me to say a prayer to St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost items, when something goes missing.

There is a short ditty many say to invoke his help: “Tony, Tony come around, something’s lost and can’t be found.”

What did I have to lose? (Oh, I had better be careful saying that.)

Well, having been christened a Catholic as a baby, I gave it a try.

On Saturday morning, while walking down the stairs, my eye caught the missing glasses in - where else - the antique pitcher and wash basin on the dining room credenza.

Don’t ask me how they got there. I just immediately said thank you to St. Tony.

With that successful, though mysterious, find, a cup of coffee was definitely needed.

I put a cup of coffee into the microwave, but the touch pad would not work.

I tried and tried - no luck.

OK, out the back door with the noncompliant kitchen appliance. Well, not quite yet, but maybe.

I left the microwave at the back door until the next morning when I decided to plug it in one more time.

The kitchen gremlins had definitely decided to play with me.

The microwave worked ... or so I thought.

I lifted it back up onto the counter, grabbed another cup of coffee and the touch pad again did not work.

I unplugged the microwave and decided to toss it out another day.

But wait ... just one more try.

It worked.

So, I now have a haunted microwave that works only once when plugged in. And, that’s the way it has been going - plug in, unplug, plug in, unplug ...

Next on my trip into the land of the lost is the missing mantle clock key.

With autumn beginning Sept. 22, I decided to do some fall and Halloween decorating on Saturday.

Of course, one cannot redecorate without dusting, so I decided to move the clock.

I heard the key, which had been on top of the clock, fall and hit the wood floor.

Immediately retrieving the flashlight, I got down on my hands and knees and searched and searched.

The key was nowhere in sight.

Well, by now, I definitely needed a cup of coffee.

Plugged in the microwave, sat at the kitchen table (where the sunglasses thankfully were still located) and wondered if St. Anthony would have time for another request.

I have decided to wait a bit before making another entreaty of the obliging saint. I don’t want to wear out my welcome.

And, now the refrigerator has started squealing.

Deb Palmieri

editor

Parkland Press

Northwestern Press