Yesterday I did a few errands limping my way into the world. After that I just took it easy hoping my leg would hurt less. It did. Not moving is the key. The sloth in me never objects to that, to taking it easy. This morning, after a night of not moving, it feels even better. My cough is just about gone. I think I am on the way to getting better. I hope so as my mood needs an adjustment.

The railroad ran when I was a kid. An engine pulled a couple of cars. Up the street from my grandparent’s house was the station master’s house and a barrier which the station master dropped when the train was crossing the road. I used to watch from the front door if I was visiting my grandparents. It was always exciting to see and hear a train. It would cross two more roads before stopping at the chemical factory where it dropped off cargo and loaded more cargo. I remember walking right beside the still train and checking out the cars. Now, the station master’s house is still there but is a regular house like all the other houses. The tracks are gone.

I used to love to go to the record store. I’d browse through the records looking for a bargain. The first records I bought were folk music, Peter, Paul and Mary mostly. I remember buying a Roy Orbison. I have a collection of records. Many were my parents. Some were giveaways at Christmas. One is from a tire store and a couple are from Grants. I love to play them when I decorate the house. Down Cape in Orleans is a record store. A couple of years back I got money for my birthday and shopped there. I bought a couple of records. I remember one was a Gordon Lightfoot. It was fun browsing.

Sundays still seem to be quiet days. When I was a kid, nothing but corner stores were open so people mostly stayed close to home. My father would buy the paper and get donuts. We’d have breakfast. When I was older, my father often made the breakfast. He’d cook the eggs and bacon in the cast iron skillet. I was in charge of toast. I always had my eggs over easy. I like dipping toast into the yokes. The bacon was crisp. I can still see my father standing at that stove with a spatula in hand as he cooked the eggs.

I have an empty dance card. I’m waiting to see if I can start back to uke. It mostly depends on my leg. I’ll decide on Tuesday.

This entry was posted on August 31, 2025 at 12:18 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.