A long sleeve shirt is the order of the morning because the house is chilly. I can feel a breeze coming from my back door, from the south. Outside is warmer. The sun is bright. The day is pretty.

When I was a kid, Sunday was a real day of rest. My neighborhood was quiet. Saturday was the noisy day, the day for the sounds of lawn mowers and of rakes pulled across the cut grass. The lawn mowers were hand mowers. They clicked. The backyards were busy on Saturdays. The wash was hung on clotheslines to dry. All the duplexes up and down the street had their clotheslines in the back, and on my street the backs of the houses faced a grassy hill. You could stand by the clotheslines and see all the backyards in a row, in a straight line down the street. They all looked exactly the same. Little kids, like my two younger sisters, played in the backyards.

Sunday was different, always quiet. Everyone, often whole families together, went to church. The pews were sometimes filled so people stood in the back. I liked standing. I got credit for going without having to do anything. My father ushered at an early mass. After mass, he’d buy the Sunday paper and donuts. As soon as he’d get home, he’d change out of his suit and sit in the chair by the picture window to read the paper. I used to read the Sunday comics. I’d lie on the rug to read them. I never went exploring on Sundays. If I went anywhere, it was with the family. Sunday was the least interesting day of the week.

My sister reminded me old age is not for the faint of heart. I am limping. I again hurt my right leg. I moan when I move, when I walk. Nala is sympathetic. She wags her tail at me and gives me kisses. Henry is disinterested in my plight. The other night I must have slept wrong as my neck hurts if I look to the right. I seem to be falling apart one piece at a time. I’ll keep a list.

This entry was posted on September 6, 2026 at 1:19 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.