This is the sort of morning which should be greeted with Maria singing on the hill about the Sound of Music or Curly greeting the day with Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’. It is already 69°. The air is so still the leaves barely move. The brilliant sun is framed by a Crayola blue sky. I think I’ll work a bit outside today clearing branches, cleaning Nala trash and hanging my Peace Corps flag.

When I was a kid, I loved days like today. I’d rush out of school, just about run home, change from my school clothes then go out and play or go out and explore. We’d play games like Red Rover, Hide and Seek or Red Light, Green Light. We’d play on the street. There were never many cars but there were packs of kids divided by ages. If we explored, we’d go through the woods or to the swamp to check for tadpoles. The swamp had a grassy part right by the edge. I’d lie on my stomach and watch the tadpoles. They just swam and ate. I’d keep checking the swamp to watch the tadpoles get legs and tails and turn into frogs. I’d check the wild blueberry bushes. Mostly it was too early.

We got to play outside well into the afternoon this time of year. The days were longer, and the streetlights were later. It was closer to supper when my mother called out the door for us. We’d sit and watch TV for a bit until my mother finished cooking. Supper was chicken or ground beef, potatoes and a vegetable. My mother always served vegetables we’d eat. We all loved corn, ears of corn or canned kernel corn. I was not a fan of creamed corn. It was messy and looked like baby food. We’d have cookies for dessert and watch TV.

My kitchen floor is a disgrace. All that rain and dogs’ wet paws left streaks of dirt. I need to make a to-do list with washing the kitchen floor at the top. I won’t add a time table. I’d hate to be hoisted with my own petard.