The morning is fall chilly at 55°. The day is lovely. The sky is the deepest blue with no clouds, and the sun is squint your eyes bright. The deck is covered in fallen yellow leaves. Some are still bright while others are brown with curling edges. The birds are back. Two feeders are empty. I’ll fill them in a bit.

When I was a kid, I did pretty much the same thing every day. I ate breakfast, got dressed, walked to school, learned, ate lunch, had recess, learned some more then walked home, but I never thought my life was routine. It was often filled with the unexpected amid the usual. I’d find the perfect yellow or red leaf and press it in my school book to save it. At home, I’d iron it between sheets of wax paper. I’d make an art piece. On my walk, I’d notice the Halloween decorations in the windows of the houses I passed. I’d see witches on brooms, ghosts and pumpkins. I’d learn something new every day. I’d sometimes find a surprise in my lunch, a Hostess cupcake. I’d take off the frosting. It usually came off in a single piece. I’d eat around the cream then I’d eat the cream followed by the frosting. It was my best cupcake technique practiced and honed over time. After school we’d play outside, go back in, watch TV, eat dinner, watch TV again then go to bed where I’d read a little before turning out the light. Life was seldom boring. It was one of the joys of being a kid.

In Ghana, I knew my life was never routine despite the sameness of each weekday. I ate eggs and toast for breakfast and fruit for lunch every day. Suppers didn’t vary much either. I remember walking each morning across the school compound from my house to the classroom block. I never took even that short walk for granted. I was always aware of how unique my life was. All that childhood wonder had returned.

This entry was posted on October 25, 2024 at 11:47 am 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.