sunday sunday

Home again - after a week of being on the road - a week of being here, there, and everywhere. Here we are on a Sunday afternoon. I have mixed feelings about Sunday afternoons. I love the lingering hours, the quiet all around, ambitious brunch recipes, poring over the New York Times for hours on end. But Sunday is next to Monday. And Monday means back to work.

This weekend has been a good one. Yesterday, we scoured the apartment, because it was most decidedly in need of a good scouring. Then, we sat back, admired our clean, orderly apartment, and promptly fell asleep for a perfect afternoon nap. Rain outside, rumbling through the gutters while we all slept - even Daisy the Dog relented to the sleepy weather.

Last night, we made lasagne from scratch and asked Peter and Kim over. They stayed until 1:30 in the morning, watching the late night re-broadcast of the day's Olympic contests and drinking wine and eating chocolate cake with us. Added bonus: they brought over their dog who kept Daisy on her toes all evening long. So much so, that she slept in this morning - it wasn't until 8:30 am that she finally stirred and asked for breakfast.

This afternoon, we made Eggs Benedict and scones for a late brunch with my parents. By now, we have already consumed more than our fair share of tea and coffee as we watch the speed skaters and cross-country skiers and luge-ers in Torino. It reminds me of when I was young and counted the days to the Olympics, soaking up every minute and negotiating a later bedtime to catch the medal ceremonies.

All across the Northeast and even just north of us in Virginia, snow is falling by the FOOT. 23 inches in Central Park...so they say. And we are just slightly envious. What we wouldn't give for a snowstorm to extend our Sunday into Monday.