Sunday Mornings...
I've never been one for Sunday mornings, I didn't get them, for me weekends are all about adventure and maybe a bit of a lie in and a Netflix marathon, but what's so special about Sundays? Why are they considered the most relaxing day of the week? It's always been a day of last minute homework and a groaning attitude at the upcoming week and the M word that comes after Sunday.
But after having a delightful few Sunday's, I'm starting to fall a little bit head over heels for them. I'm a very fast paced person, I don't take time out to pause and breathe and take in my surroundings. I went to Paris one year, visited the Eiffel Tower and after two minutes of admiring the view I was ready to leave because there was so much more of Paris to see. I like to rush through everything, and I know I miss a lot precious moments by doing this, because when you step out of the buzz for just a moment it gives you the chance to realise just how happy you are in a moment where you're too busy thinking ahead of yourself.
This is what Sunday's are doing to me. I'm waking up from a nice sleep at around 9am, with no rush to get up, my kittens see I'm awake and pound on me purring themselves away as they rub their entire bodies across my hands and face. There's a bit of sun streaming through my window, which makes my room have a glow to it, and everything's good. In this moment I can sit with my kittens forever.
But then my bladder realises I'm awake and forces me to the bathroom where suddenly the rest of my body longs for some coffee and Sunday brunch.
Fried eggs and potato waffles (best combination) with some mango cubes and coffee, eaten in bed of course, with a naughty kitten trying to bite the corners off of my waffles, the sun streaming through, a book waiting to be read, a little bit of music. Old 90s stuff, the best stuff for a Sunday morning. Though somehow right now I'm listening to Blue (Da Ba Dee), which I was obsessed with as a child. Which is still 90s -I think, but not the kind of 90s I was going for...
There's no rush in the world, like everything has paused for me to spend the morning in bed in the best possible way. Soon we'll get dressed in lazy clothes and wash last night's makeup off finally and walk the dog in the sunny British air. The first warm day of the year in fact. And we'll come home and drink more coffee and swap trainers for slippers and potter around the house continuously listening to the best songs. Drops Of Jupiter by Train maybe...
And then suddenly it will be late and dinner time, and it doesn't matter what we eat, because ice cream is for dessert and a there'll be a movie, and we'll go to bed ready for Monday morning, and we won't dread the M word that comes after Sunday, because we know that we paused time and spent Sunday the best possible way it can be spent...
So, I think I get Sundays now, and they might just be my favourite day of the week
Shaan x
But after having a delightful few Sunday's, I'm starting to fall a little bit head over heels for them. I'm a very fast paced person, I don't take time out to pause and breathe and take in my surroundings. I went to Paris one year, visited the Eiffel Tower and after two minutes of admiring the view I was ready to leave because there was so much more of Paris to see. I like to rush through everything, and I know I miss a lot precious moments by doing this, because when you step out of the buzz for just a moment it gives you the chance to realise just how happy you are in a moment where you're too busy thinking ahead of yourself.
This is what Sunday's are doing to me. I'm waking up from a nice sleep at around 9am, with no rush to get up, my kittens see I'm awake and pound on me purring themselves away as they rub their entire bodies across my hands and face. There's a bit of sun streaming through my window, which makes my room have a glow to it, and everything's good. In this moment I can sit with my kittens forever.
But then my bladder realises I'm awake and forces me to the bathroom where suddenly the rest of my body longs for some coffee and Sunday brunch.
Fried eggs and potato waffles (best combination) with some mango cubes and coffee, eaten in bed of course, with a naughty kitten trying to bite the corners off of my waffles, the sun streaming through, a book waiting to be read, a little bit of music. Old 90s stuff, the best stuff for a Sunday morning. Though somehow right now I'm listening to Blue (Da Ba Dee), which I was obsessed with as a child. Which is still 90s -I think, but not the kind of 90s I was going for...
There's no rush in the world, like everything has paused for me to spend the morning in bed in the best possible way. Soon we'll get dressed in lazy clothes and wash last night's makeup off finally and walk the dog in the sunny British air. The first warm day of the year in fact. And we'll come home and drink more coffee and swap trainers for slippers and potter around the house continuously listening to the best songs. Drops Of Jupiter by Train maybe...
And then suddenly it will be late and dinner time, and it doesn't matter what we eat, because ice cream is for dessert and a there'll be a movie, and we'll go to bed ready for Monday morning, and we won't dread the M word that comes after Sunday, because we know that we paused time and spent Sunday the best possible way it can be spent...
So, I think I get Sundays now, and they might just be my favourite day of the week
Shaan x
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