Yesterday I was awake so early, at least for me, you’d think it was Christmas, and I was six. We had a uke concert at ten at the Chatham Airport open house, and we were supposed to be there by nine. I needed coffee first, hence the early alarm, and I wanted a good parking space. It all worked out just fine. We played The Beatles, and the audience sang along. I had lunch and then wandered around the old cars and the planes. It was fun.

We are expecting rain. It is 67°. It is windy and not windy. The morning feels chilly. I’m staying home today. I have nowhere I need to go, and I am where I want to be.

When I was a kid, we never drank tonic, which is Massachusetts for soft drinks like Coke. We drank Zarez, a sweet syrup which came in a small glass jug and was mixed with water. Mostly we drank orange. My mother used to keep a pitcher full in the fridge. They don’t make Zarex any more.

We were not a big salad family except for potato salad, that was a barbecue staple, and maybe Waldorf salad at Thanksgiving. I thought the grossest salad was Ambrosia. It didn’t even look appealing. Some were a disgusting green in color and some had little marshmallows.

My mother always bought Oreos. The best way to eat them was to split them and save the cream side for last. When they were young, my sisters used to feed the plain side to Duke, our dog. The three of them would sit on the back steps to eat their cookies. My father loved Hydrox so my mother bought those too. My father was a dipper. He dipped his Hydrox in milk. Oreos are great the same way. Cookies never lasted long in our house. I still like Oreos, but I eat them whole. I am partial to the original though I’d never turn down double stuffed.

In summer all the rules changed. Bedtime was later. If we stayed close, in the neighborhood, we could play outside even after the street lights had turned on. I remember the circle of light on the ground. I remember the shadows. I remember the excitement of being outside in the dark.