When Todd and I have lunch with a friend who lost her husband not long ago, we’ve become accustomed to a wonderful tradition she and her husband began: opening a bottle of champagne for Saturday afternoons. As I sipped champagne at her house on a recent fall afternoon and listened to a neighbor’s leaf vacuum through a window open to an autumn breeze, I thought of Norman Rockwell’s paintings and of old sitcoms, like The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet or My Three Sons. 

Champagne for a Saturday afternoon, what a wonderful tradition.