Today is rained all day...pouring and drizzling, and an ebony afternoon with winking streetlights. Rainy Sundays are dreamy times, really. I thought lots today about growing up with a noisy house of six children, and original parents!! We knew we could always curl up with a good book in the quietness of our own rooms...after the Sunday dinner was over. We would come home from church, dad would put Never on Sunday on the stereo/phonograph, and we all had chores. Dinner was always a major production when I was growing up. We had flowers and candles and conversation...and we were never allowed to take a phone call during dinner. Dad would always play the devil's advocate (he still does) and we would be so mad at him!! After all the dishes were cleaned up, we would meander up to our rooms for naps or reading or those missed phone calls. I guess I'll just meander up to my own room here at White Picket Gardens and read a chapter or two before a Sunday nap...ahhh, but first, the chores.
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Farewell, Mom.
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