weekends, comforts, groundhogs
I’m not sure why I still love the weekends so much… I don’t work professionally anymore, so weekends aren’t the superspecial time to spend with my kids that I never otherwise get. In fact, since the kids don’t understand “sleeping in” there isn’t even that bonus to the weekend. But for some reason, weekends are still special, and hopefully they always will be. I guess I allow myself to kick back a little more than during the week — I do less housework usually, and I eat more indulgently. Of course, I allow myself to indulge a tad much. I do dread Sunday mornings because they are a hassle, but it’s a good hassle.
So, today, I healed some personal wounds with muffins. Sometimes if it ain’t broke, then you just don’t need to fix it. I haven’t been up to par in the kitchen lately — usually soups that are less than noteworthy or straight up vegetable plates. Uninteresting stuff. People get in funks from time to time and I am estimating I will slip out of it soon enough, but soon often feels like an eternity away. Creativity has taken a hiatus, and new recipes aren’t as fascinating as they usually are. I dragged my normally exhausted, reluctant, Saturday-morning-self to the table to enjoy warm muffins, yogurt, and some hot tea.
And it was good.
I don’t even mind that we’re going to have six more weeks of winter. Maybe some of that won’t be 67-8 degrees for the high the way Monday and Tuesday are supposed to be. I just want a snow day. SNOW DAY I SAY. It’s been about five years since we had a REAL snow, you know, one that didn’t melt by 10:00 am.
