It's 9pm on Sunday and I don't want it to be over. It has been one of the most wonderful days I can remember in a long time. Nothing too flashy or exciting...but sweet for sure.
Got up this morning and headed for church. The sermon was about food...manna from heaven, to be exact. I am so desperately trying to avoid putting any food in my mouth that I had to tune out the whole sermon. I just kept thinking about bread and how I am not eating it and how I love bread and wanted some with a big slab of butter on it. Not exactly the message that I was supposed to get.
After church, I headed to the grocery store...food again...and thought about how to make the week successful. I decided that if I made meatballs and sauce, that would do it. Food again...
I had a car full of food and ran into Jim heading for the neighbors house on his tractor to scoop the poop out of her corrals. I, of course, wanted help with the groceries to no avail. I schlepped all the food I bought and started cooking.
As I made the meatballs, I noticed that I had all three men in my house watching. "What are you making, Mom?" When I answered, I could see the anticipation of the "Sunday dinner" plans.
I told my Mac that I was making an awesome dinner because I wanted him to remember his home fondly when he goes to college. I said it like I was kidding but really, I think I was totally serious.
As the meatballs and sauce were cooking, I whipped up chocolate chip cookie dough. My youngest came upstairs to ask what I was doing and decided I needed some company. He started to make the cookies and we discussed at length the fact that everyone loves soft chocolate chip cookies. I enjoyed every second of that talk.
Meanwhile, my husband was out in the garage trying to figure out what is wrong with my car. For the last week, I have been driving with the heat on and the windows open to keep the thing from overheating. The temperature has been in the 90's in Denver so I have been sweating like a pig all day. Needless to say, I have been calling him at work to tell him how I am sweating to death and how he needs to figure out what is wrong with my car...because it is all his fault.
When the food was made and ready to go, I cleaned up the kitchen and poured my glass of wine. Jim joined me and we sat out on the deck talking. We talked about dinner, our kids, being old and how lucky we are. After some time, we came in and ate the great dinner I made.
I know it sounds boring and I gotta tell you...it is.
Boring and good. Sunday, 15 days before my second child leaves for college, a free day when my youngest son isn't on the field marching with his tuba from 8-6, a day when my husband dons his overalls and lays beneath the car talking to himself, and a day when I can just be mom. Those days are few and far between in my house lately, and when I get a chance to cherish them...I'm gonna.
While we sat on the deck, Jim and I talked about 20 years ago when I was in labor at St. Joes and he was wearing his "30 and still frisky" shirt and we were embarking on a life with children. We laughed about how we never imagined all the things we have done and will do with our family...how lucky we are to have these three.
Sunday, a day of rest, although in our house, there seems to be no such thing. But, I loved today...the shopping, the cooking, the talking with my boys, the sorting laundry, washing dishes, sitting with Jim on the deck...the ordinary things that happen and if I have my head programmed to automatic pilot, could have missed all of it.
Thankfully, I didn't.
The last thing of the night, a thing I love to do is next...
I am going to get into my pj's and read the Sunday paper. When I'm done, I'll roll over, kiss my husband good night and shut off the light. If that isn't ordinarily sweet...nothing is.
Hope your day was sweet,
We'll tawk tomorrow,
I love you all,