The front and back doors are open to the sun. Not one cloud mars the sky, a beautiful robin egg blue sky. Nothing is moving, not even the pine trees branches prone to swaying. It is in the 50’s, a torrid day for this time of year. I had no plans to go out. My to-do list says finish cleaning downstairs, but I think I’ll save that for the late afternoon. I only have the kitchen and dining room to finish. I might just go out.

When I was a kid, once the days got warmer, I’d go back to playing outside after school. I’d haul my bike out of the cellar and take a ride, my first spring ride. I remember it was cold going riding down my street, a long hill. The wind shot right up my sleeves. I was happy to get to the end of the hill.

The street lights came on later. Day was longer than night. I’d ride around and explore my town. I remember it was still in winter. The grass was yellow, brownish. Most gardens were bare though the tips of shoots were popping out of sunny corners. I’d ride around, maybe even stop at the library, until late afternoon when it would get cold again. I’d get home in time for some TV before dinner.

I remember the first place we lived when we moved to Stoneham. It had a tiny kitchen and only two bedrooms. The table was right beside the bigger kitchen window, but we seldom sat there altogether. I remember my mother cooking in that kitchen, standing in front of the stove. The kitchen got steamy, and you couldn’t look out the window. My mother never ate with us. My brother and I would sit at the table both of us craning to try and see the TV. Dinner always had some form of potato, usually mashed. Vegetables were few as we weren’t fans back then. I did eat peas. I’ve always eaten peas. I’ve eaten them in fried rice, risotto, salad and by themselves with a pat of butter. Anyway, sorry for the tangent, now back to the story. My mother tricked us with carrots. I’ve told you about this before, but I’m still so amazed at the duplicity of my mother it bears mentioning again. My mother mixed mashed carrots with mashed potatoes and told us the sort of striped white and orange colors were because of the potato, a new potato. We believed her. We ate carrots disguised as potatoes. We even liked them.