This is my favourite time of the week: Sunday morning. I love sleeping in a bit late, cuddling with my kitty, getting up and making tea, and puttering around the house, bare feet padding on the floor. I usually do my weekly BIG clean, complete with laundry, washing of floors, and bathroom and kitchen scrubbing. I often listen to music, what I call "Sunday Morning Music" – nothing too loud, lots of piano and acoustic guitar. I like bopping around to Sunday Morning Music. It makes me happy.
Sometimes, I like to bake on Sunday mornings. Baking bread is my favourite, it permeates the air and makes me think of warm and cozy things from my childhood. I also like to bake banana bread, and sometimes cookies! (I must admit, I do make the best chocolate chip cookies around!) Every now and then I'll bake croissants or biscuits for my breakfast. Nothing like fresh, hot biscuits straight from the oven, with quickly melting butter and jam. Yum!
In the fall mostly, I like to go for a walk on Sunday mornings. I like getting into a nice warm sweater and smelling the musty, earthy smell of the trees and the grass. I love the smell of woodstoves burning, and I even like the cool air on my cheeks. In the winter, I stay inside and watch movies on TV. Sometimes I read the paper, and struggle with the New York Times crossword puzzle. (I cheat if I have to, and I never feel guilty!)
When I was younger, Sunday always meant church, and I hated going to church. Even as a very small child, I thought church was terrible, some sort of punishment for my bad behaviour throughout the week. No matter how I tried to be good all week, I still ended up in church on Sunday mornings! Sunday school wasn't so bad (the stories were so imaginative!), but the church part was a killer – listening to that man drone on and one was NOT my idea of a fun time. So, Sunday was my least favourite day. I would have much prefered sitting in school as extra day out of the week to sitting in that church. The only good part about it came when I started to learn the songs.
Because of church, I hated Sundays for years. When I stopped believing in what the minister said at church on Sunday mornings, it was even worse. For years I associated Sunday with church and, eventually, with christianity, which I had come to believe was no good for me. So it took me some time, but finally I was able to reclaim Sundays for my own. I think it's a good idea – a day of rest – even if the christian sentiment is something I don't share. And so, after many years, Sunday became MY day.
I have a nice little ritual for Sunday mornings. I like all Sundays – sunny, rainy, snowy, cold, warm. Sunday is my own day, the day I do exactly what I want to do, nothing more. It's my guilty pleasure day, the day I can be with my favourite friends, or the day I can unplug the phone and ignore the world. Every once in a blue moon, I spend the day recovering, but I just hate wasting my Sunday like that. Sunday is the perfect day to go to an afternoon movie, and the perfect day to rent videos and watch them in my pyjamas. Sunday is the perfect day for a walk with a friend, or by myself. Sunday is the perfect day for cooking for many, or for one, the perfect day for poking around whichever stores are open, or for filling the house with music I make with my own two hands. To me, Sunday is all of these things. To me, Sunday is perfect.