All of my posts so far have been food-related, but today I am thinking about the Sunday paper.

A staple. When I was a child, every week my grandparents would pour through the Sunday paper. They read all the daily papers during the week, but the Sunday paper was a time of reflection and relaxation. I remember them sitting on the front porch with all windows open, reading the paper and trading stories. They both worked so hard during the week, and my Mom can attest to them working so much harder when she was a child. Sunday was the day for them to go to church and just relax. Chicken and dumplings may or may not have followed.

Out on the front porch, with the breeze from the St. Lawrence flowing in. I didn’t realize how good this was until I moved to land-locked Charlotte. 🙂 Don’t get me wrong – I love my city. More and more I miss those lazy summer days on the river. I miss the fresh air coming from that river, and I miss the absolute silence at night. Crickets…I hated you in New York, but I love you now. You sing a happy song that I miss so much. You are welcome in my house, please sing me a song.

It’s interesting how perspectives change and evolve. I value my life where I live, but just as much I miss where I grew up. I look forward to spending the month of September in a camp on Wilson Hill, with the St. Lawrence as my front yard. I hope my mom will bring me the Sunday paper and spend Sundays with me, relaxing with the river as my grandparents once did.