There was a time when Sunday was a day of rest. Does such a concept exist any more? I woke up today, Memorial Day, to the rumbling of a neighbor’s electric lawn mower. It reminded me of Thanksgiving morning. As I sat to have a quiet cup of coffee, I was assaulted with a team of men dressed like the ghost-busters attacking a yard covered in fallen leaves. If not a day, can we agree to a morning of quiet?