The Sunday of old is gone. Stores are now open, churches have far fewer people and Sunday dinners with the whole family around the table are a thing of the past. I loved that Sunday, except for the church part, but I have noticed the Sunday of today has become, in some ways, like that Sunday of my childhood. Not a single lawn mower breaks the Sunday morning quiet. The birds can be heard singing. My neighbor works every other day of the week, but today he’ll sit on his deck, chat with his family and later he’ll barbecue. He does the same thing every Sunday. That is, I’m thinking, the new definition of a family Sunday dinner: sitting on the deck enjoying each other’s company and barbecuing a chicken.

The day is gorgeous. I couldn’t invent a nicer day. The sun is bright and the morning is still cool. It will get warm today, in the high 70’s, but tonight will be cool again, down in the 60’s, and wonderful for sleeping. This is when I wish I had a tree house so I could sleep outside. I’ve already build one in my imagination. The walkway will be from the deck and will have rope sides and a wooden bottom for easy walking. It will jiggle a bit but still be safe. The treehouse will be big enough for a table, a couple of chairs and a day bed. There will be a tablecloth, a bit retro like the ones from the 50’s, and flowers in a vase on the table. The windows will have curtains; I’m thinking flowers. Below each window on the outside will be flower boxes filled with blossoms of all colors. The door and the windows will have screens which let in the night air but not the night bugs. I will fall asleep among the trees lulled by the songs of night birds.