I love those Sunday early mornings, walking over to the coffeeshop, having my usual coffee and muffin, reading a book (still Irving) while a variety of music plays -- always kind of funky. At that hour, there are only a couple of other people there, usually including one eery-looking older woman who sits there just staring out the window. I always am interested in what her story is, but, on the other hand, it might be better if I don't know.
On the way there, I talked to a very conversant older guy walking his dog. He (the man, not sure about the dog) had recently moved here from Oregon, so of course I had to tell him that I had just last fall been to Oregon (my 50th of the 50 states), both in Portland and on the Oregon coast. "Ah, where on the coast?" Yachats, I tell him. "Ah, my favorite spot on the coast!" he says. Mine too. And then we went our separate ways.
So, if you sleep in on Sunday mornings, you miss me and the other old duffers.