The first day of the week is always special

I always felt that the first day of the week, Sunday, is special. There is just something magical about waking up on Sunday. A day of promise is how I saw it as a child. A special day that belonged all to me. No school; no dancing lessons and just all that time that belonged mostly to me. I read a lot as a child and also played board games/card games with my siblings. I visited my grandmother often enough on the weekend but not usually on Sunday unless I stayed overnight from Saturday. My uncle used to ask me to stay with my grandmother from quite a young age actually as he and my aunt liked to go to Toronto on Saturday afternoon and come back Sunday night. His store closed at noon on Saturday and he did not open on Sunday. It was also special going to their house as I was the centre of attention which didn't happen in my home. I didn't need to be the centre of attention; it actually rather confused me but I gradually got used to eating dinner on Saturday evening. My uncle would ask me about school and the subjects that I was taking. He was keenly interested and so I would talk about that. He would tell me about his life as a child with my grandmother offering corrections or additional information on occasion. Sometimes he surprised her by the things that he said. He was an interesting person my uncle. 

Tomorrow is Winter Solstice and there is a special gathering managed by the Cathedral Labyrinth Guild. I would like to attend (online) but the evening here can be quite busy as we tend to do things together at that time. We have our busy day and then the evening is when we sit and be together. So we will see.