It is one of those Sundays I fancy in my dreams. Brunch is ready for whenever J decides to get out of bed, shower and join the ranks of the conscious.
The day is quiet as only a day where there is no place for most people to go can be. The birds are chirping and singing. A chipmunk showed up a while back.
I have my flag out for Decoration Day. Maybe I will find that eponymous Charles Ives piece and listen to it.
For all of you in the British Commonwealth, Decoration Day, now called Memorial Day, corresponds roughly to Remembrance Day, November 11. We honour our (ever growing number of) War Dead. We use November 11 to honour all of our veterans.
The custom of putting flowers on the graves of the war dead, “Decoration”, began after the Civil War. Until about fifty years ago, the day celebrated was May 30th. It became a “Monday Holiday” so people could have a long weekend.
One of the neighbourhood white squirrels obligingly posed for a picture the other day. I’m posting it here
And here flies the National Ensign.
Life is good.