The rain is coming. The wind is cooler and getting stronger. The clouds are dark. It is a storm coming from the south. The rug is on the floor to protect my newly washed and polished kitchen floor, but I may have to shut the door to keep the rain out. This is a lazy time of day for the dogs who are lying on each side of me on the couch and are napping. I always envy my dogs.

My dog Duke was never allowed on furniture. He knew the rule, but he also knew out to get around the rule. He’d stretch his body across the beds but keep his back paws on the floor. He slept on the couch at night, but he jumped off if he heard someone coming down the stairs in the morning. Duke never got caught.

When I was a kid, the closer we got to the end of school, the more effort it took to pay attention. We had end of the year exams, but nothing really depended on them. We had a longing for summer.

I used to ride my bike to school more as the year ended. I left my bike in the bike rack. It was wooden, painted green and under the trees on one side of the schoolyard. It had a slot for each bike. No one locked their bikes. They weren’t fancy bikes back then. They had no gears. They had pedals with back brakes. I remember biking through sand and jamming on my brakes to slide on purpose. We used to attach playing cards, sometimes bent in half, to the spokes with spring clothespins. The cards made a flapping sound, a rhythmic sound as the wheels spun. I lived on a hill, and it took me a while before I could pedal the whole way. I used to get so tired I would stand up hoping to get more distance. I remember how the pedals got heavier and heavier, but I also remember the joy of triumph when I finally made it all the way.

Today is a delight. It is 70° and filled with sunshine. The blue sky is striking. A breeze stirs the leaves on the lower branches. It is the best of early summer weather.

When I was a kid, I got car sick. I used to stick my head out the window hoping I’d feel better. Sometimes, though, I’d get sick out the window. I have two big car sick memories. I was quite young, and we were on our way to visit my grandparents in East Boston. I remember I was wearing a dress. We were close when I threw up all over me and the floor. My father turned right around, and we went home. He cleaned the car. My mother cleaned me. The other memory is a bit comical. I got sick out the window. A bit of it was caught by the breeze. My father said he felt drops. “It must be starting to rain,” he said. I said nothing.

I remember family road trips and Sunday rides. We’d ride north on Route 1. There was so much to see. The sides of the road were filled with old motels and some restaurants. I remember the giant cactus sign outside the Hilltop Steak House. The Prince’s Restaurant had a leaning tower. A giant orange dinosaur looked over the highway from a miniature golf course. Augustine’s had wonderful food and was a favorite restaurant of ours. Some old lady used to play an organ. The Ship Restaurant was another quirky place to eat. It was huge and was a long way from the water. One small motel was right on the road. I remember it was red, and a big sign was in front, far taller than the motel building which had only a few, maybe 6 or 8 rooms. I remember tacky looking bars with signs mentioning dancing girls. There were always cars out front despite the time of day. I always wished we’d stop at Russo’s Candy House or Putnam Pantry for ice cream. We seldom stopped.

One of my strongest memories from a family ride was seeing some deer grazing under trees on a small hillside near the road. I hadn’t ever seen deer in the wild before that. I can still close my eyes and see those deer.