“Sunday! A family day with a touch of weekend thrown in for good measure.”
Last night the freight train sounding wind blew down the front fence. Cold air came through the flap on the dog door. The rain pelted the windows. It was a remarkable night. Right now it is 37° and cloudy. The wind is still strong though not as strong as last night. The rain is gone and won’t be back.
After a drab winter, I crave color. This morning I noticed my daffodil buds right away. They are finally yellow, quite close to blooming. They are the only color brightening the garden. The hyacinths will be next. The forsythia buds still have a while to grow.
When I was a kid, I always thought Sunday was a wasted day. Its only bright spots were donuts and Sunday dinner. I had to go to church. That was a given. I had to stay around the house, no wandering. I’d read the Sunday comics, watch TV and wait for Sunday dinner, our fanciest meal of the week. It was always a roast with mashed potatoes and a vegetable or two on the side. The roast beef was always well done. The chicken was whole. Carrots were fresh, but the peas and asparagus came out of cans. I remember the asparagus tops would bend it you held a spear straight up. I always ate the peas and some carrots, but the carrots were forced on me. Desserts were cookies. I’d grab a few and go back to watch TV. Usually they were Oreos and sometimes chocolate chip cookies. Sunday meant early to bed. It was a school night.
Today is Palm Sunday. I remember getting fresh palm fronds at mass. My mother used to have some tucked behind a picture over her bed. They were last year’s fronds. They’d get so dry over the course of the year that the tips could puncture your skin if you weren’t careful. They went into the trash, carefully thrown away. The new fronds started their year long tenure behind the picture.
My dance card last week was empty. I stayed home almost the whole week. I did some cleaning, reading and a bit of napping. Uke is back with practice on Tuesday, a Wednesday lesson on Zoom and a concert Wednesday afternoon. I will be emerging from my self-imposed hibernation.
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keepthecoffeecoming.blog 
March 24, 2024 at 2:04 pm
Hi Kat,
Today is dreary and cloudy with a high temperature predicted of 71°. Thunderstorms are predicted for later tonight.
When I was a kid, Sundays mornings were reserved for my father’s bowling league. The league was sponsored by the Jewish organization called B’nai B’rith. I’m sure the Bowling alley was happy to have people bowling on Sunday mornings. In those days nothing was open on Sundays. Sunday evening we always went out for dinner. My mother always said that she cooked dinner every night during the week and Sunday was her day off from cooking. We would usually have Chinese food. My father always ordered sliced barbecue pork for an appetizer, Won Ton soup, and we shared a couple of entrees, my mother liked shrimp with lobster sauce, and my father would order something else. He liked to mix his main dish with his fried rice. He called it a mish-mash.
In those days there were very few Chinese restaurants in Dallas. The Asian owners hired local woman as waitresses. They all reminded me of the character of Flo, in the TV series, “Alice”. They all chewed gum, kept an extra pencil in their hair bun, and asked in a Texas drawl, “Y’all want Waan Ton soup with that egg foo young?” When I went to China I discovered that egg foo young was unheard of in Hong Kong or Zhuhai. It was invented in San Francisco for American taste.
March 25, 2024 at 12:09 am
Hi Bob,
Today was also dreary here. It will rain for a few days this week starting on Tuesday. I was glad it was raining Friday into Saturday as up north got snow instead. My cousin in New Hampshire got 18″.
Sunday was the proverbial day of rest when I was a kid. A couple of corner stores were open but little else. Chinese food was a huge treat for us, and when I was young, we didn’t have it often. We had it often when I was much older. My father slathered hot mustard on all his appetizers. His eyes watered and his nose ran. I also use it but not at all as much as my dad did. We always had the pupu platter and a few other appetizers like the shrimp. We also liked shrimp with lobster sauce. We were lo mein fans more than rice fans.
The Chinese restaurant in my town used to take their van to Chinatown in Boston and pick up their waiters. No Caucasians worked at the China Moon.