“A Sunday well spent brings a week of content.”
Today is ugly, cloudy and cold. The high will be 50° while the low will fall to the 30’s. It is spring yet it isn’t spring. The house was chilly this morning. I grabbed my fleece. Just a few days ago my windows were open to the warm air. I could smell spring, the flowers and cut grass. Now my house is closed again, fresh air gone. Mother Nature is still toying with us.
When I was a kid, Sunday was a quiet day. Churches were filled. Most stores were closed. Families had a Sunday dinner, always the special meal of the week. The whole family was there. It was a command performance. In the afternoons, lots of families visited relatives. My mother’s side of the family was huge. She had four brothers and three sisters. Only the younger two weren’t married. I was the oldest grandchild.
My grandparents lived in East Boston. I loved visiting the city. There was a corner store right up the street. I’d take my dime, the one my grandfather would give me, and walk up to the store to buy candy. In the summer, people sold Italian ice, slush, out their windows, the windows facing the street. I loved the lemon. We’d play stick ball on the street with a stick, of course, and a half pink rubber ball. The bases were cars, sewer covers and random spots in the sidewalk gutters. We’d play a sort of baseball game against the steps with an uncut pink rubber ball. You’d throw the ball at the steps, and it would sail into the air. Hits were determined by distance. Home runs were always over the heads of the outfielders. You had to keep track of the hits, the imaginary runners on bases and the outs. Arguments were common. East Boston was the first place I ate bakery pizza. The pieces were square and room temperature. Once we walked all the way to Logan Airport and wandered around. The terminals were interconnected flat buildings. You could go up on the roofs and watch the planes coming and going. My mother was angry. I was thrilled.
Sunday night came quickly. My mother would send us to bed early always reminding us Monday was a school day.
Explore posts in the same categories: Musings
April 19, 2026 at 3:45 pm
Lovely reminiscences. We spent the sunny morning digging out a blocked land-drain in the back garden. Mid afternoon we had a fleeting visit from my wife’s nephew. He had flown in from Mallorca, Spain in order to see his 98 year old grandma who had her birthday earlier this week. Grandma lives only four miles from us. Then watched my favourite football (soccer) team win an important match.
April 19, 2026 at 5:47 pm
Peter,
I am watching the Boston Red Sox. It is a misty, rainy day at the ballpark. This is a huge weekend in Boston with baseball games Saturday, Sunday and Patriot’s Day on Monday. The game is played starting at 10:30 as Monday is also marathon day.
It is a day to stay home, warm and dry!
April 19, 2026 at 6:33 pm
I will be taking my autistic brother in law to play snooker on Monday. We meet other guys there and most of the talk is about football. We all support different teams.
April 19, 2026 at 7:59 pm
Peter,
The Red Sox are the team here. If someone is rooting for a different team, they moved here from somewhere else.
I’d heard of snooker but didn’t know anything about it so I looked it up. Pool is the game here.
April 20, 2026 at 4:52 am
We also play pool. Our best snooker player, at the Monday sessions, is also the best pool player.
April 20, 2026 at 10:32 am
Peter,
I don’t know of places which offer snooker. I figure there are private clubs which probably offer it.