Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.
After church, and a bowl of vegetable soup accompanied by a few rounds of Mastermind, we grab our cameras and Maya, and head out to see what we can see. Our destination is a pretty little spot on the outskirts of town that promises an abundance of fall colour and splendour.
But we forgot something.
We forget the first rule of retirement: avoid public places on the weekend. There are about forty cars parked in the area. Nope. Not gonna enjoy a leisurely photo-worthy walk with the crowd so we turn around and head back toward town.
We stop at a spot-with-a-view that I made note of on the drive out and capture a few images. A little farther, and we stop at places that are rich with memories—some from as long ago as when my children were babies.
Later, back home and after a short visit with our neighbours, I chop vegetables—Swiss chard we picked from the garden earlier, tomatoes that have been ripening in the laundry room, and onions—for a stir fry, (I’ll sprinkle feta on it all after it’s cooked. Delicious.) and slice delicata squash for roasting.
Then, we head out to the hot tub for a pre-dinner soak and conversation. Afterward, I curl up with a quilt to watch Anne With an E, and Gerry continues researching camera lenses—I’m in the market for a wide-angle lens.
Day ends early and gently, and I haven’t even downloaded the photos I took from my camera card.