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 ... don’t want to wear out my welcome.

And, now the refrigerator has started squealing.

Deb Palmieri

editor

Parkland Press

Northwestern Press