“If Saturday had a spirit animal, it would definitely be a sloth.”

The morning is yesterday and the day before that. The weather is the same. Clouds still hold sway and the temperature is in the 50’s, but the sun is supposed to make an appearance. I’m hoping it will. I need a bit of sunshine.

I am, as per the quote, celebrating my spirit animal, the sloth, today. It was a busy week. I frantically cleaned and had four uke events. The last two were concerts. During the Thursday concert, my music book kept falling because the top of the stand has a broken screw and can’t be tightened. At the third fall, all the pages came loose on the floor. I really wanted to curse, but circumstances didn’t allow it. That was the breaking point. I ordered another stand and it came yesterday but too late to use. I’ll practice putting it together a few times before next week’s concert.

When I was a kid, my father had his Saturday rituals. In the morning he’d have coffee, always instant which he preferred, and read his paper. He’d then go up town. Sometimes I was lucky enough to go with him. First stop was always the Chinese laundry. My father only wore white shirts back then and always had them laundered. I loved that laundry. The counter was in front just a bit inside the door. On the right was a window. In front of the window was a giant sort of iron. It had two parts, a pull down top and a bottom of the same size. Sometimes a man was working the iron. Steam made a hissing noise and came out the sides of the iron when the top was down. I liked watching him. My father’s shirts were always wrapped in brown paper and secured with string. The barber shop was next, a couple of doors down. It was small, only two chairs. My father usually just got his hair trimmed. I used to sit in a chair by the window and read magazines. They were all about hunting and fishing. Sometimes we’d visit my father’s friend at his drug store. I got a coke at the soda fountain while I waited. After my father was done visiting, we’d go home. I always loved those mornings with just my father and me. They were special.

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