Sunday has come to be my FAVORITE day of the week.
No alarms. No have-to-rush-off plans. Just me and the cat, a mug of coffee or cocoa and the Sunday Edition.
Followed closely by Sunday Biscuits and Gravy. When the kids were little this was a family ritual. Now my oldest still does it every Sunday for my grands...and I've kind of got back in the habit as well.
The house is usually cleaned from Saturday so it is warm, clean and inviting. Burrowing beneath the quilts for an extra hour or so is luxurious. Even Tucker seems to enjoy the slower pace...better treats...and sprawling in the midst of the Sunday paper after it has been read (although more often than not he attempts this while it is being read, as well).
Now that Laura and I are back in touch, Sunday tends to be our catch up day with one another, too.
We were reflecting on how different people we are...maybe how different we always were...even all those years back.
Her parents from New York and New Jersey and moved to Indiana when her Dad's job relocated.
Mine were from Missouri and Kentucky.
Her Mom made finger sandwiches and introduced me to Perrier.
My Mom made Fried Chicken and Cat's Head Biscuits and wouldn't have paid for a bottle of water (sparkling or not) if she was in the middle of the Mojave.
Our styles were vastly different back then, too.
She was chic...exotic...fabulous. I was a hippie. Tie Dye, halter tops and low midriff baring jeans. She was confidence personified. I travelled in a wide circle of outcasts.
We were both around a size five.
She is three years older than me so it is a bit satisfying to know she will make it to 60 first.
" I'll STILL be SEXY, Dah-ling. Sexy at 60! " She says in her exaggerated Ab/Fab imitation.
And I believe her.
She is back in New York, these days. Smack dab at the Center of the Universe as she likes to call it.
She does get a good laugh when I tell her I no longer live in-the-sticks...and actually have transportation and delivery services.
"Okay...it's not The Tube." I admit.
So, Sundays are our catch up day.
Today during coffee and chat we came around to discussing human behaviorism.
And the elections...and I was happy to see we have finally reached common ground in politics. This was not always the case.
Her dad was one of the staunchest...er most obnoxious Republicans I have ever known.
But this time we are both firmly rooting together for Bernie.
And about reactions. Optimism/Pessimism. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed our conversations which seemed more at home in a near-college-coffee house than at the kitchen table, or on Skype.
People have a real tendency to bitch...be unhappy...complain...we come to the joint conclusion.
To summarize:
"In the winter they bitch about the cold and snow. Then in the summer they bitch about the heat. In Spring they bitch about the rain...and in Fall they complain about having to rake and bag leaves and that it will soon be Winter. of course."
Ergo...they are never really happy. Ever.
Each season is approached with the same shock at the cold...heat...rain...or falling leaves as though it is the very FIRST time it has ever happened!!!!
By the time our mutual rant is over we are both rolling...and the first person to cross either of our paths on Monday and complain about the cold is going to have their mouth duct-taped, okay.
After we finish laughing hysterically.
(...this is probably a bad time to mention that my patio door is completely frozen solid shut...isn't it?)
Sunday...
Life hasn't been the same since my Reclaim Sundays that I experimented with last year. Sunday has became that extra day...free day...in my week. A day to Reset. Rejuvenate. Cook. Read. Write. Paint. Create. Center.
A Day of (if not silence) at least Zen.
More anon...
