This has been the most wonderful weekend. Was it the fact that the week leading up to it was stressful and hard? I don't know. I'm not going to over think it. All I know is that this weekend was like a cool drink of water to a parched throat.
Saturday morning I cursed under my breath as Sophie's cries for Mommy started at 5:45am. I brought her to bed with us where she whispered as she stroked Roy's face, "Daddy... daddy..." and put her arms around me, patted my hair, and snuggled in deep. This reminder of her first year lasted about 30 minutes before we finally got up to orange juice and coffee and I continued to marvel at the evolution of her play.
I've been a bad Farmer's Market supporter this summer, so after the coffee kicked in, and having been inspired by Katie's post about peaches, Sophie and I went to the market before the crowd - and the heat - kicked in. I came home with peaches and beans and carrots and beets and potatoes... Oh the bounty of summer!
Hungry, and with Roy still asleep, I made a plate of scrambled eggs and grabbed 2 forks.
Up so early, I took a 2 hour nap (rejoice!!), did a few loads of laundry, and prepared a menu and meal for a dear friend, who more closely resembles kin. I wish I'd gotten pictures of our evening, but alas, it was not to be. We ate wild salmon from the grill with fresh, locally grown vegetables that required nothing but salt and pepper. We drank lots of wine, shared stories, and watched as Sophie dance to Jimmy Buffet.
This morning, at Sophie's prompting, Roy and I took our coffee and entertainment (me: cookbooks, Roy: Disney World books) to the outdoors and the beautiful morning.
Sophie played in the yard put various things inside Roy's pinball machine that is currently living in our carport.
As I type, my family sleeps. I've made a meatloaf from Cooks Illustrated and have peaches preparing to be cobbler-ized. When Sophie wakes up, we'll head to the pool, an event that will no doubt thrill her to bits.
I hope that your weekends were as full and rewarding as mine, and that I can remember THIS feeling when the heaviness of life crowds my being.