If you’d like a bit of a weather report, just check yesterday’s Coffee. Today is the same. I do love this weather, but I’d like some rain. Everything is too dry.

When I was a kid, Sunday was sacrosanct. Most of the stores were closed. It was family dinner day. We hung around the house after church. My father read his paper, and we watched TV. Sometimes in the afternoon we went to visit my grandparents.

In my mind’s eye, I can see the way to East Boston where my grandparents lived. I remember places which caught my eye or piqued my curiosity. They sit in my memory drawers in no particular order. I remember the sportman’s club with the pond stocked with trout. It was just before my favorite part of the ride, Route 1. On the highway, right beside each other were a couple of seafood restaurants. Some of the menu was listed on signs by the road so drivers might be tantalized to stop. I also remember the small store which advertised bait. It was close to the church with its back to the highway. There was a sign to Wonderland, the dog track. Both sides of the highway were filled with all sorts of stores and buildings. On a corner with a strip of grass below an overpass was a bridal shop with mannequins wearing wedding dresses in the windows. The rotary was always busy. We had to wait for a break in traffic. Beyond that was a trailer park and a sort of project with brick buildings. It was at the bottom of the hill where the huge statue of Madonna Queen of the Universe looked down on the city. We’d leave the highway and ride through a couple of neighborhoods to get to my grandparents’ house. My father would drop us us then he’d hunt for a parking space. The house was always filled with cousins and aunts and uncles. My grandmother was in the kitchen as were my mother and the aunts. My grandfather hid from the turmoil. He used to give us each a dime.

My dance card is fairly empty for this week. I have the usual uke practice and lesson and only one concert. If the warm weather continues, I’ll be happy to sit on the deck to read and watch the birds. I’ll let my sloth have full rein.

This entry was posted on September 15, 2024 at 12:39 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.