I’m feeling rather nostalgic lately, not sure why, but hey, why fight it?!
Yesterday, a Saturday, I was reminiscing about my Saturdays as a child. Most times I’d wake up & go with my Mom to Mrs. Sandra’s to get her hair done. My Mom was of that school that you get your hair washed & styled once a week. Even as a kid I knew this was kind of gross, yes, she only washed her hair once a week people, crazy I know.
Sometimes we’d stop & get breakfast at Angelo’s bakery in Old Metairie, mmm, mmm, mmm doughnuts. My usual would either be a twist or a cream filled, basically a vanilla pudding filled doughnut, no glaze, sprinkled with powdered sugar. (My heart broke when they closed/moved locations).
Then kind of like Steel Magnolias, we’d sit in the back room of Mrs. Sandra’s house, that had been converted into her shop & gossip/chit chat with all the little old ladies & my future swimming teacher Ms. Mary. After we’d put in our time at Mrs. Sandra’s we would head on over to our cousin’s Laniel & Mary right around the corner & gossip/chit chat all over again.
After 6th grade, we’d stop & get Mom’s nails done, which began my fascination with all things acrylic. If I was lucky we’d go shopping at the Carrollton strip Mall behind Piccadilly. Maybe we’d get lunch at McDonald’s too, that’d make the weekend for me, sigh….
As long as I can remember my parents’ friends from the National Guard and Lions Club would come over late Saturday night for coffee & doughnuts & to play cards, mainly Rummy Royal.
Sundays: Of course as a kid I loathed going to church. I was so mad at my Mom for not letting me bring toys to church like other kids got to. As much childhood torture church put me through, ole Sacred Heart on Canal Street in Mid-City, I miss it dearly, another Katrina casualty.
After church we’d come home, clean house & Mom would make a late lunch or early dinner. A lot of times my brother David & his wife & kiddos would come over Sunday afternoons & visit. My sister & her husband & daughter would come over as well. I miss those times of just being together with each other.
It’s times like this when I get all misty eyed that I wish I was living closer to home so I could have some semblance of the past back, but I know I chose this path & am making a new life for myself here in Texas. Granted it’s sort of lonely in some aspects, too full on others, but I’m grateful for what I had/have with my family, things I’m appreciative of the fact I was loved so dearly growing up & even now as an adult that I can live in another state & still be able to have a life where I know I’m not ever completely alone.