A Sunday Afternoon Drive

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was a cold and rainy one.  We desperately need the rain so I wasn't disappointed.  Emerson and I spent a great part of the day curled up by the fire.  I got to thinking about Sunday afternoons in my childhood.  The lunchbox got me in the mood for a bit of revere.  Sunday afternoons were the times to "take a drive".  After church in the morning and dinner at noon, usually a roast of some kind, we were ready to set off.

This is our car circa 1958.  It was the latest design and my father loved its modern appearance.  Quite a difference from my grandfather's old car behind.  We were entering the rocket age and the cars looked it.  Out Sunday afternoon drives usually involved a trip into Brighton to visit my Aunt and cousins, my uncle, a Boston police officer, was usually at work.  I was always ready to go to the "big city".

Americans fell in love with the automobile after the war and train travel disappeared from many areas.  A sad mistake in hindsight. Dotty often talked about her Sunday afternoon drives as a young girl when they would pack a picnic and go to visit one of their fields to check on the cows.  She didn't care much for it.

Driving now is just a necessity; something you have to do, but sometimes I go out for a meander, no destination in mind, just see where I end up.  I don't do it very often because I try to conserve fuel, like this Sunday.  I was content to stay at home at remember those fun drives of 60 years ago.