March 20, 2012

A Month of Sunday

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The day. Sunday. A month of. It feels as though.

Soup and scone. Lemon and clementine. Mighty grapefruit.

I prepare and prepare more. But I am never prepared.

We gather and gather more. Obliged. Much obliged.

When light hits I cast a line and reel in the morning.

Catching everthing we'll need with a net.

We scratch the itch and clean the glass.

Smile for two hours straight.

Yet sleep escapes us.

We wait and wait more. Time slips by.

My gut screams. I listen.

Finally. The rain slips through the fog.


  1. You were productive! And organized. A bit more than I am capable of on a Sunday. Sometimes I manage to scratch out a good deal, but I'm never so neat as you.

    1. I cling to organization. It keeps me sane.

  2. Replies
    1. They do look like cookies...but alas they are scones. Coconut chocolate chip. So good!

  3. I love the lines and grids in your final photo and the productivity you've captured that eludes me at the moment. And I like to see those tea towels in your kitchen and then look at them in mine. Makes a form of kinship :)

    1. A definite kinship :) I love my towels. At any point in time I have no less than three circulating throughout the kitchen. They perform their various tasks. One for drying hands. One for drying dishes. One for my shoulder when prepping mise. Oh boy—I might have a problem ;)


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