The Dainty Pastry

I remember the sound of early weekend mornings at 4 or 5 a.m. “Time to get up” shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

I remember the sound the bundles of newspapers made as they hit the patio. “Boom.”

I remember the sound of the second warning. “Keith! Get up!”

I remember the sound of the rubber bands being tied around dozens of newspapers. “Snap Snap Snap”

I remember the sound of the car starting up and car doors slamming to bring us to the trailer park to deliver the newspapers. “Slam, slam, let’s go!”

I remember the sound of the papers hitting the porch. “Bam.”

I remember the sound of the snow as I made my way through my route in winter. “Crunch, crunch.”

But what I really remember, what I really remember is the smell of the pastries we got to choose at a little shop called The Dainty Pastry on Main Street when we were all done with a hard morning’s work.

Yum.

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “The Dainty Pastry

  1. For me, you brought back memories of bicycle paperboys. I loved reading the paper but now read the internet. In our world of information overload I’ve missed my Sunday morning Book Review and Travel section. Of course, I’ve also missed the stacks of paper that I was “going to get to sometime during the week”. Imagine how lovely that Book Review would have been with a Dainty Pastry. Us paper-readers loved you paperboys. Thanks for the memories.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s