Around 2:30 this morning the thunder started. It surprised all of us. Nala looked up at the ceiling and Henry just looked around. The rumbles lasted on and off for a while. The dogs lost interest and fell back to sleep. Next, the rain started, heavy drops. It was loud. In a bit, the rain softened but lasted for quite a time. It was still raining when I finally went to bed.

We are back to sweatshirt weather. The house is chilly. Earlier, the air was still, but the wind has since started. It will rain all day, a perfect stay at home day. Yesterday I cleaned. Today my sloth reigns supreme. I have a book and a new jigsaw puzzle.

Each day, the traffic on Coffee is analyzed on the home page by number and location. As you would expect, the highest traffic comes from the United States. What I find unexpected is that the next highest number is from Hong Kong then in order Singapore and Belgium.

When I was a kid, a rainy Saturday meant hanging around the house. I’d sometimes stay in my room, my quiet place, and read. Other times, I’d sit in front of the TV and watch all the Saturday morning programs. I always watched Creature Double Feature in the afternoon. I got to see all the classics, both American and Japanese. That’s where my love for those movies began. Last night I watched Atomic Age Vampire and The Day Mars Invaded Earth. I even ate some popcorn generously buttered.

We had an operator who connected phone calls. The upgrade was a dial phone. Our TV was black and white, but everyones’ were black and white. Most of the movies I watched on Saturdays were made in black and white anyway. The milk man delivered each week. I remember the rattle of the bottles in his wire container as he walked to the back steps. The trash track had men who rode on the back. They jumped off to empty the barrels lined up on the street and the garbage in the below ground container with a pedal on the top to open it. Clothes dried on the backyard lines. My sheets always had the best smell. The ice cream man, Johnny, came most late afternoons. The truck bell announced his arrival. His truck was white with a small door halfway up the back of the truck. The ragman came on his horse and wagon. The knife sharpener man rode his bike with the grinding tool attached.

Life when I was a kid was more colorful, filled with characters. It was simple. It was a great life.

This entry was posted on May 30, 2026 at 12:31 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.