I love Sunday mornings...I mean, I really really love Sunday mornings!
We don't get in any hurry for anything, and the kids somehow seem to know that's the way a Sunday goes. This morning, I snuggled on the couch with the three little ones, curled up in a blanky watching Pingu. Fasha (Far-ger? Oh, Dad) brought me yummy foffee, some people call it coffee...and we snugged with the babies while watching what could have been a scene from our home in the Pingu family. (Our family life compares to so many cartoons!).
As the Day Blossoms
As the sunshine brightens up our little corner of the world, we start poking around our day. This mid-morning has been filled with the laughter of the kids playing fort in the back room with the moving boxes from our move almost a year ago. Fasha and I are art-ing in the kitchen, we just sort of move around each other as we ponder our next move, adding paint here and there, picking up and setting stuff down...we both have several projects going on at a time. And we throw comments and ideas out to each other as we create.
We end up choosing playlists on either the ipods or on Pandora radio to fit our mood. Sunday mornings are for Nina Simone or Herb Alpert or Benny Goodman. Now that it's closer to lunch-time, we've moved on to They Might Be Giants and The Barenaked Ladies...great art-ing music.
Another Perfect Saturday
We have a saying in our house, Another Perfect Saturday.
We have a tradition in our family of grilling out and listening to da Blues on Saturday evening. Dry hot air, and a summer Saturday nite, drinking a beer while grilling out chicken fajitas and corn and peppers on the wood fire, listening to Muddy Waters and John T. Hooker and the like...that's a magical evening! We started our Saturday nites like that, and for a long time we had the count of how many consecutive Perfect Saturdays we'd had.
Another Perfect Saturday became the measure by which all of our days are measured...and this day, Sunday, is Another Perfect Saturday.
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