It’s a lazy Sunday morning. We had friends over for dinner last night. It was wonderful to see them and catch up, but it meant a late night, which means a late and lazy start to today. After emptying the dishwasher and reloading it with what didn’t fit in last night, Dale is now making breakfast; salmon omelettes with the left-over salmon from dinner last night. I’m sitting on the couch, watching. I offered to make hollandaise but he declined my offer. So, I’m going to sit here and let him serve me. I hope tea is involved. 

What is it about Sundays? The best Sundays involve a lovely breakfast, best eaten on the couch in your robe. They involve cups and cups of tea while on the same couch in the same robe, watching old movies on TV. Unless it’s NASCAR season, then it involves watching hours and hours of pre-race and race footage. But that’s okay, because it’s Sunday, and I’m eating a lovely breakfast on the couch in my robe, with my Sweetie. 

After breakfast, the best Sundays involve some sort of outing. Maybe a bike ride, or a trip to a Farmer’s Market or an antique mall. The outing is dependent on the season. If the weather is iffy, the outing is usually to the supermarket, to pick up supplies for a  comforting Sunday dinner. 

I guess the desire for a quiet Sunday comes from the days when nothing was open on Sunday, when it was recognized as a day of rest. When we both worked, Saturday was a busy day; changing bedding, getting groceries, doing laundry, taking the kids to soccer or hockey. Sunday was usually a slower, more relaxed day, a family day for skiing or for going to the park to play our version of baseball or heading to the lake to swim and fish. Sometimes it was a day to veg and recharge, a day to do a whole lot of nothing.

 I don’t really need a Sunday-kind of day anymore. I’m retired, every day can be a Sunday-kind of day. But Dale works and he needs a re-charge day, a day to putter and do little jobs. He isn’t the kind of guy who can sit on the couch all day. He finds it relaxing to polish the stainless steel appliances and to clean the vehicles. It’s rare to see him sitting, reading a book. Me, I could live on the couch with my Kindle, or on the windowseat watching the world going by. 

Currently I’m still on the couch, still in my robe. Dale has cleared away all the breakfast dishes, washed the omelette pan, re-finished the ring left by my iced tea glass on the table last night, wiped down the stove and counters and polished out the fingerprints on the fridge; stopping every now and then to catch some of the pre-race coverage on TV. He’s as happy as a clam and so am I. Sunday has worked its magic again and it’s not even noon. Time for another cup of tea.