”I woke to the sound of the rain.”
My world is slushy. The snow fell for only a short while then the rain came. It is still raining, a heavy rain I can hear on the roof. What is left of the snow is now the top of the slushy mess. When you step down, you step into water up to the tops of the boots, and you leave footprints which quickly fill with water. It is an uninviting world, but I have to go out to a concert this afternoon.
I have always loved rain. I loved summer rain the most. I used to love getting wet on a hot summer’s day. I’d walk in the gutter and kick the water running down to the sewer. We’d splash each other and laugh. We’d air dry.
Winter rain was uncomfortable. I didn’t have a rain coat, and I always got wet, and I always got cold. My shoes were soaked. I’d take them off, and my socks were so sodden they’d leave footprints on the floor. My hair dripped water. I sat by the radiator trying to get warm. After school, I’d put on my pajamas, my cozy clothes. I’d lie in bed and read.
Sunday was my least favorite day. First was church. I’d have to wear a dress or a skirt and a hat. I never understood why a hat was necessary. I hated hats. I was glad when mantillas appeared. They were easy, a lace head covering you could keep in your pocket until walking into the church. I did love Sunday dinners. They were special. I knew they’d always been mashed potatoes and a couple of vegetables. The meat was a roast, sometimes beef and sometimes chicken. I favored the beef.
Some Sundays we stayed home. I’d hang around the house, maybe watch TV or read. Other times we’d go to my grandparents’ house as did my aunts and uncles. I was the oldest cousin. I had no one near my age except an aunt, 5 months younger under than I. Her room was upstairs. No one was allowed there. She and I never got along. Other than the spaghetti always on the stove and the fun of grating the cheese I didn’t enjoy going to East Boston.
When I was in Ghana, there was a service every Sunday in the school cafeteria. The tables were stacked, and the chairs were arranged in rows facing the table where the principal, guests and the speaker who was giving the sermon sat. I used to go. It was expected, but I never really minded. I was in Africa where I savored every experience.
My concert today is at the mall. We are singing love songs of the 60’s. I still don’t have a raincoat.
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keepthecoffeecoming.blog 
February 16, 2025 at 4:43 pm
Hi Kat,
It’s a sunny clear day but a cold 49° and windy. The really cold weather will arrive tomorrow. Brrrr.
I’m always fascinated by cultural customs. No where in the Hebrew Bible does the lord command that men shall keep their head covered. My more religious grandfather, my father’s father, always wore a skullcap inside and a fedora on top of his skullcap when he wet outside. I think he wanted to make sure he was displaying the proper reverence so that his head was covered when he removed his outdoor hat. On holidays, he would wear a tall, “keppah”, the Hebrew word for a “yarmulke”, Yiddish for skullcap. However, my grandmother never went out without a hat. If she was at the synagogue she wore her hat.
In churches the men go bareheaded and the woman wear hats. What’s with that? Catholic Priests are bareheaded but the Bishops, Cardinals, and the Pope wear skullcaps. Why? Or, maybe why not.
Our Muslim friends, the men wear skullcaps or hats and I never saw woman inside a mosque, but I have never ventured inside one during prayer times. I did look inside one while I was in Dubai. How could I visit a Muslim country and not look inside a Mosque?
Because men’s headwear has gone out of style in this country, some Jewish men wear their kippah outside and have it clipped to their hair with a hair clip.
February 16, 2025 at 11:13 pm
Hi Bob,
We too will have cold weather starting tomorrow. It will be cold, brr cold, all week.
I think women of a certain age always wore hats when they went out. I remember my grandmother wearing one even when she went to the supermarket.
I know men wore yarmulkes, but I didn’t know why. I figured it was religious. I like that your grandfather also wore a fedora. He was a man who believed in being prepared. I wonder how wearing yarmulkes began.
Courtesy expected men to take their hats off when entering a house. Maybe that is how men not wearing one in church began. Priest actually had black sort of hats they wore usually when entering the altar area where they would take them off. You’re right about bishops and up who wore hats, elaborate headpieces, when in church. The pope always wears white and his headpiece is white and quite beautiful.
The skull cap is actually called a zucchetto and were originally worn starting in the Middle Ages to cover the tonsure so heads would stay warm. Cardinals wear red, the Pope white.
I also have never looked into a mosque either so I know nothing about headwear.
February 16, 2025 at 11:57 pm
The courtesy of men removing their hats when entering a house is a western custom. All of the Abrahamic faiths were originally eastern religions. Obviously, when the Roman Emperor Constantine declared Rome as a Christian Empire, there was also a strain of Eastern Christianity in Istanbul. Jews were stuck in the early Christian world and they kept more of the Eastern beliefs than the Romans. They just kept a low profile.
You are correct, my grandfather was prepared, but he was also bald. Maybe that had something to do with warmth as well. I don’t know.
February 17, 2025 at 8:31 pm
Bob,
I didn’t notice that in some countries men do wear their hats inside, but not so much in Western Europe. Now, here, baseball caps are wore inside. They seem to be the main headgear for adult men but worn backwards. I always think it looks silly to see the plastic size adjuster across men’s foreheads.