Monday, April 14, 2008
On Sunday Morning
When I awake the sun shines a little bit higher and instead of feeling guilty, I am calm and thankful that for once, I slept in a little longer.
I walk upstairs and make a pot of coffee, extra strong, so strong it's bitter and syrupy. The only way to drink this concoction is with cream, and that's all. No sugar, I prefer the bite of the bean.
The boys are out fishing and I have complete and utter rule of the house. I can turn on my stereo and blast it loudly. I can watch CNN or VH-1 without any complaints or requests to turn it to AMC. Hell, I could walk naked around the house with slabs of bacon on my naughty bits clanging a tambourine for all anyone cares. I am alone and I love it.
I choose to get dressed and get a Sunday paper so I can tear it apart without reprieve and scan all the ads for clothes and makeup on sale just like I've predictably done for years and years. It's one of my things.
When I return from the neighborhood convenience store and pull into the drive I am reminded of how lucky I am to have a nice home, nice clothes to wear, good things to eat and friends that offer to me a family away from home.
I check the time. It is 11:55 am. Oh good, just in time for the Sunday Morning Church Bells. It's without a doubt my favorite part of Sunday. At noon, the church bells will ring in my neighborhood and echo off all the homes and land perfectly in my ear. It's simple, but it's a full out symphony to me and it feels as though it makes my brain smile and relax.
I open the door, climb up the stairs, grab my Sunday paper, my coffee and slip out the back door to our balcony, sit down and put my feet up. 11:59. Just waiting for my Sunday Morning Church Bells.
Oh, I have an Ulta coupon for you, I think I remember you liking their makeup and I dont need it since I suck at makeup (I usualy forget I have it on and rub my eyes....)
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