I woke up this morning to the sound of thunder; smiling, I snuggled in for another half hour’s rest. When I did get up and find my way downstairs to the coffee pot, the house was still dark and the rain could still be heard, battering us. Old dog, curled in his bed, watched me with one eye open. I poured a cup of coffee and found the hubbs – standing in the garage watching the rain blow in from the west.
The house is sparkling from yesterday’s efforts; even the garage is shining, for he spent most of yesterday scubbing and sweeping his “man-land.” The fridge is stocked with foods I prepared yesterday morning, and the counters show off my baking efforts.
Sunday has come again and I love to linger in it; I always try to slow it down and not let it go away so quickly. I’ve written about my love for Sundays before, including here.
No offense to the other days, but Sunday stands alone as my favorite. Friday night is for fun, Saturdays you’ll find me tearing through my “to-dos,” but Sunday? Sunday is my day. A day to pause, to think, to reflect, to appreciate.
Weekends don’t count unless you spend them doing something completely pointless. ~Bill Watterson
There aren’t enough days in the weekend. ~Rod Schmidt
Of all the days that’s in the week
I dearly love but one day
And that’s the day that comes betwixt
A Saturday and Monday.
Weekends are a bit like rainbows; they look good from a distance but disappear when you get up close to them. ~John Shirley
Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week. ~Joseph Addison
What do you love most about your favorite day of the week?