Another Sunday

Oh! Last Sunday was wonderful in Menil Park.

            For folks in the brrrr-cold part of the country, Houstonians seem like such wimps. We whine about the temperature being in the twenties. But, hey! Remember that we don’t have heavy coats; some of us don’t have gloves and Walgreen’s runs out of hats and sweatshirts in minutes. The houses are ready either. When the wind blows—well, at least in this old house—Come on in!

            So on Sunday, just like folks who’d had to dig out of snow banks and ice, folks who’d regarded thermometers showing below zero, we headed outside. I sure did.

            In one review of the Montrose neighborhood, Menil Park lying between the Menil Collection and Rothko Chapel was called the neighborhood’s front yard.  Certainly on Sunday, that is what it looked like. I brought my book for a sunny read. Families picnicked. Couples cooed. A couple of folks snoozed.  

Others made new friends and enjoyed old ones.

Most popular of all—The Red Swing. I even got a turn.

Then a new friend, maybe three, told me, “I can’t get up by myself.”

“Shall I help you?” She nodded.

“I don’t know how to swing myself.”

“Shall I push you?” She nodded.

We parted fast friends.