June???

I just googled an older, former boss who I just learned, turned out to be dead, age 69 in 2006 after a brief illness.  Her name was June.  Truth is, I couldn't stand her.  She very nearly ran for Republican Governor of Alabama in the mid-1980's, employed 5,000 people, the most in Alabama at the time.  The mistake people made was to believe she was smart, when all she was, was rich.  Earned it the old-fashioned way: by divorce. My intersection with her made me aware of the illusion. I could have kissed up to her. For three years, I negotiated all of the government contracts that her apparel company obtained. One day she called me to complain that I was earning too much money, more than anyone in the company except for her, and her partner Jim, who I liked working with. "Charles, I'm going to have to let you go," she said. She never received another contract. I think she wanted to create business losses to offset gains somewhere else. Nothing else made any sense.  But I am actually thinking of another kind of June, equally as incongruous as the Belle from 'Bama. I have been sitting before the fire all afternoon at Stonepile, rained and fogged in, cold, but, it is June, dammit!  And on television tonight is the final game, perhaps, of the Stanley Cup between St. Louis and the Pittsburgh Penguins, or as if this isn't weird enough, then we have the Lakers versus the Orlando Magic in the NBA finals.  Basketball, hockey, roaring fires, the old Boss named June, dead.  Next thing?  I don't know.  How about June bugs, snow? How about beach fires, sailing, rhododendrons in full bloom, lawn parties?