June is nearly upon us, but May is having one final, glorious stand at immortality. Before she fades away, let’s look back at three beautiful things from the past week:

1. Fireflies emerge in the park as twilight fills the sky.

2. Peas from the garden eaten straight from the pod while standing in the kitchen.

3. We clean out the freezer and toss some things that were indistinguishable from the freezer burn coating them. (Note: plastic grocery bags are not adequate for long-term freezer storage.) There is now room for popsicles and homemade ice cream and ice cubes (radical, I know!), and I can see how many baggies of strawberries I have left from last season for daiquiri-making.

How about you? What’s been beautiful in your world this week?

I meant to post this last week, on the actual anniversary, but I lost track of the days and only this morning recalled that I had missed the date. Also, apologies for the quality of the pictures. I found them rather late in the game and, rather than dig out the scanner, I opted to photograph them, and the quality suffered.

Twenty years ago this month, Grey Kitten and I attended my senior prom.

I don’t remember asking him, but it was probably a driveway question. The fact that I don’t remember it suggests that he did not make me wait long before he said yes. [Thank you for that, GK, because the boy I asked to my junior prom said no, albeit kindly and quickly. Karen took pity on me (thanks, Kare!) and went on a consolation date with me to the movies, after which she swore she would never see another action film with me again. She has not broken that promise, although, to my recollection, I have never asked her to.]

Finding the right dress took far longer than finding the right date. I know a number of girls who waited to find escorts until after they found their outfit. I was about to type that I didn’t care that much about fashion, but my mother reads this blog and she would tell you that searching for a prom dress with me was a miserable experience for both of us — and I only took her on a third of the excursions! Ultimately, the dress was found, but not in my size. The shop made some adjustments, but not enough, and Mum and Gramma had to pull it apart and put it back together again. Twenty years later, I cannot begin to fathom how much work that must have been. Thank you, Mum.

I remember walking around the grounds when we got there. I remember getting our official portrait taken, with the awkward hand placement that accompanies such shots. There must have been some pre-dinner mingling, because I have pictures of my friends in their dresses. Our table was served dinner on the early side of the room, and neither Grey Kitten nor I were big eaters at that time, so when the music started, I assume to create ambiance during the meal, we looked at each other, got up, and hit the dance floor — the first and, for a long time, the only couple out there. And while I do recall sitting down at least once, I think we spent most of the evening dancing.

It was a perfect night.

And because my classmates were wiser than I, Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer” was not our prom theme. Instead, it was Dan Hill’s “Sometimes when We Touch,” a classic of light pop radio:

So whenever I hear it, I get to relive a fairy-tale evening, now long enough ago to qualify as “once upon a time.”