Of a Sunday


Today, on our second weekend here, we officially revived the tradition of going out for breakfast. Not that we haven’t been eating out lately, far more, in fact, than we’d really like, but with the kitchen now back to a functional state, we can resume a more normal eating schedule. And on weekends, that means brekkie out. I’ve noticed that unlike in Maryland, it’s somewhat difficult to get away from the big chains around here. There really are only two potential candidates for something different, and one of them caters to the business district and is thus closed on Saturdays and Sundays. But I do love my Cracker Barrel! In the olden days, IHOP was my favourite; these days, it still comes in a close second.

One favourable new trend is the emergence of healthier food options, be it smaller portions, the exclusion of heavy cheese and cream, or simply substituting veges or fruit for fries. As Weight Watchers programmes seem to be all the rage, some restaurants include point counts on their menus (Applebees, for instance).


America, land of creeds… just near our house, we have Baptists, Lutherans, Presbyterians and Methodists, but any other Christian sect you care to mention finds a home in this city, as well. My former religious cohorts, however, have a firm grip on the area, certainly where medical care is concerned (toss in a church or two plus a school for good measure): there is a large general hospital not ten minutes down the road, along with assorted smaller Cratchits, eh, specialty clinics, like a clinic for vein surgery, a large heart centre, and even a clinic for cosmetic surgery. There are also Amish nearby, who seem fairly invisible, but remain highly prized for their carpentry skills.

Whichever denomination we have to thank for this grand idea, we live in a dry state, meaning you cannot purchase alcohol on Sundays (somewhat ironic considering communion). Anything else, though, is up for grabs; if it’s commercial, it’s open for business seven days a week. Many stores do curtail their shopping hours on Sundays, at least somewhat.

You can already guess how we spent our morning after breakfast! At least the fridge, freezer and pantry are stocked again, but I find shopping rather exhausting these days and was glad to take a rest by the pond, the Kindle, a brew and the dogs in tow.

On the way home, we were stopped at a traffic light from where a wide road led up a hill and around a bend to disappear into a blue sky. If you were in Swanbourne, you could walk up that hill and there’d be an ocean on the other side. Now where did that come from?


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