Maybe you can’t go home again. But you can go back to a simpler time.
If you want to.
This weekend we managed, by accident, to time-travel.
It started innocently enough. Two small steaks on the hibachi. A bottle of good red. The radio was the Mystery Woman’s idea. She loves Garrison Keillor and NPR airs “A Prairie Home Companion” as a prelude to sundown.
We enjoyed our dinner on the screened porch as Garrison unfolded his radio variety show. Some close harmony, even some opera, goofy stories, sound effects, more music. Old fashioned radio stuff from a modern storyteller.
What a great Saturday night. A cool breeze whistled through the tree tops. Yesterday's humidity just a memory. Minnesota summers are more forgiving than the blast furnace in Texas.
Half a bottle of wine later, we had both leaned back in the wicker chairs and, eyes closed, were transported to yesteryear when the big fun was to gather around the Philco and soak in some entertainment. Maybe a little culture, too. Just add imagination.
Monday, I’m thinking about hanging up some clotheslines. I miss the smell of sheets drying in the sun.