I have been slogging my way through the dark mornings, waiting for my reward…the autumn afternoon with the extra hour. Last week was the worst, and I even gave up pretending I was getting up at 5:30, and reset the alarm for 6:30. I whined every morning through my second cup of coffee. But the 25 hour day was worth the wait. Especially since it was delivered with rain and no commitments, other than my commitment to nap. Seriously, this is one of the prime nap days, along with the day after Christmas and New Year’s Day.
So I napped, like the power napping pro I am. I also read all three papers, hung some art and curtains, went to the gym, talked on the phone with Steve’s fabulous Aunt Pat for over an hour, planned a party, roasted a chicken (and butternut squash with onions, garlic and apple, too), and skyped with Kate. I mostly ignored the bathrooms, the laundry and our garage full of books and old flower vases.
(I don’t know which of us had the bright idea to pack the grandma pottery in the empty filing cabinet, but it was a distressing discovery. So much more to unpack, and not the stuff that has a clear home in our home, but a small home in our heart…like the pink candy dish my grandma kept on her piano…that kind of stuff.)
But I digress. I think a 25 hour day makes so much sense. Sunday afternoon naps make even more sense. Tomorrow I will show you the chalkboard backsplash in the kitchen. A place where you can draw pictures of toast and coffee cups and rocket ships….total sense.
Happy Monday. Hope you were able to use your extra hour with no regrets. And if you didn’t get to squeeze in a nap, there’s always next weekend.