Today is sunny. The temperature is only 75° but feels much hotter. It is Sunday quiet. I can hear only a single bird. Even the hums of insects sound quiet and uninspired. I’m sitting in my dark den. It is always the coolest room in the house as the windows face west and north. I have a dump run planned for today but nothing else. I am embracing the feel of Sundays of my childhood.

When I was a kid, I was never squeamish. I caught grasshoppers. I picked up garter snakes. A praying mantis could hold my attention for what seemed hours. They looked prehistoric to me. I think a giant version starred in a black and white science fiction movie and ate people and destroyed towns. If you were afraid of bugs or snakes in Ghana, you were doomed. My childhood had prepared me though a centipede did take me back a bit.

On Sunday mornings, we got to have donuts. My father usually brought a dozen home after his ushering duties at the early mass. I remember his favorite was a plain donut slathered with butter. Back then I ate jelly donuts and had perfected eating one without the jelly oozing through the hole. It was when I was much older that my father made bacon and eggs for me for breakfast. His sunny side up eggs always had unbroken yokes.

I stayed close to home on summer Sundays. My bike stood outside in the back yard waiting for Monday and new adventures. I’d read the comics in the paper. Sometimes I’d watch the afternoon movie matinees. They were movies kids could could watch. My favorite was Treasure Island. I was pulled in by the arrival of Billy Bones and his black spots. I still remember how horrified I was to find out that Long John Silver was a treacherous pirate.

My mother seldom used the oven to cook Sunday dinner. The kitchen was small and held the heat. We often had corn on the cob and, if we begged enough, my mother made peppers and eggs as the main course. From the grill, cheeseburgers were my favorites. They were topped with yellow American cheese. I used ketchup on them back then. I never turned down a hot dog in a toasted bun.

My dance card is pretty empty this week. I don’t even have my uke practice or lesson. Our first concert on the green in Hyannis is tomorrow at 5:30. On Saturday we are playing from 7 to 9 in front of the Kennedy Museum in Hyannis. For the rest of the week, my sloth will reign supreme.

This entry was posted on June 28, 2026 at 1:29 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.