Last night was downright cold. I shut the windows. I also shut the back door as I could feel the cold coming through the dog door. This morning is warmer but only 52°. It is a pretty day with sharp sunlight and lots of blue. The breeze barely ruffles the oak leaves. The dogs stay out in the yard. They like these cool days.

Today I have a concert, my third uke event of the week. Tuesday was practice. Wednesday was my lesson. After today, my dance card is empty until Sunday when I have, yup, you guessed it, another uke concert. I do have a to do list, but the sheet is yellow with age.

When I was a kid, I wasn’t a fan of carrots. Peas were my favorite vegetables. I never saw fresh peas. I’m not even sure I knew they came fresh. Mine were the very young, small sweet peas in the silver can. We had potatoes almost every night just not on Fridays and Saturdays. Friday was no meat so no potatoes, maybe fried dough or little pizzas. Saturday was baked beans. I don’t even remember ever seeing sweet potatoes, maybe Thanksgiving but I’m only guessing. Some vegetables were never served. Spinach was one of those as were Brussels sprouts. I didn’t see Brussels sprouts until I was older, and I thought they were baby cabbages. Our mashed potatoes were sometimes streaked with orange. My mother hid mashed carrots in the mashed potatoes. I just went along with it.

One of most glorious events in my life was when I learned to read. My mother used to read to me all the time, Golden Books when I was really young. She used to brag I was only two when I knew every animal on the ring of animals on the back covers of the Golden Books. I loved nursery rhymes. They tickled my fancy. My first library card was an occasion, a big event, my entry into the most wonderful world, one I still cherish.

When I was a kid, I dreamed of seeing the world. It was my all encompassing dream. I never dreamed of what I wanted to be. When I was asked by adults what I wanted to be when I grew up, a stupid question I always thought, I was stymied. Back then the choices for girls were sort of limited: teachers or nurses. My heroes were women who ran counter to custom like Amelia Earhart. I didn’t want to be a pilot. I just wanted the choice.

When I first woke up, I checked the outside world thorough my bedroom window. The morning is cloud bound. It looked chilly, but I was wrong. It is a warm day and already 71°. It is a day to ditch my sweatshirt for short sleeves. The sun is even beginning to make an appearance. I think it will be a lovely day.

Nala is outside at her usual spot by the back fence lying in the sun. Henry is here with me. It is just about time for their first naps of the day.

I have a couple of errands. My car is nearly empty of gas so the gas station is on the list. My larder is empty of essentials like cream and bread so a short trip to the grocery store is in order. I always buy a Snickers bar as a treat for me and biscuits for the dogs.

My dance card has a few items for the week. I hate busy weeks. I prefer to stay home and just enjoy the day, every day. I have uke practice tonight and a lesson and a doctor’s appointment, a regular appointment, tomorrow.

When I was a kid, we had a May procession every year. The whole school marched. The oldest kids were in front and the youngest in back. The second graders were all in white, the outfits they’d wore for their first communion. In school we practiced the songs we’d sing at the grotto, at the end of the march, songs like Mary We Hail Thee with Blossoms today and Hail Holy Queen Enthroned Above. Parents lined the parade route which was a square around the block from the school to the grotto. An eighth grader always crowded the statue of Mary with a crown of flowers. During my eighth grade, I was the crowner. I wore a wedding dress belonging to a neighbor. I was at the end of the parade. I stopped a lot as people wanted pictures, and I was happy to oblige. At the grotto, we sang a few songs then it was time. The statue was in a niche on the front of the grotto. A sort of step ladder with a railing had been put there so I could reach the statue. I was scared stiff I’d step on the hem of my dress and fall. The priest saw my fear and held my hand as I ascended the ladder. At the Mary we crown thee line, I crowned the statue then gingerly walked down the ladder. I have a picture somewhere of me climbing the stairs. It was a momentous occasion.