Sundays are an odd sort of day. Sometimes they are for hymns and potluck dinners and family. Sometimes they are for sleeping in until noon and eating breakfast for lunch. Sometimes they are about housework and laundry and washing dishes. Sometimes they are for actively doing nothing at all. Today, Sunday was for...
Not sleeping in...
But having a vanilla latte to take the edge off.
Picking up my guitar after an extended break.
Watching an almost love story.
Looking up at the sunny sky through the trees.
Talking to my grandmother about the holidays, and gambling.
Dreaming about the future.
The smell of fajitas wafting in from the kitchen.
And going to bed early.