To Start The Week

Lately, Sundays have been hankering for a new name.

I know we love Little Friday Eve and the celebration of cute/funny/baby animals that brings.

I am totally on board with the celebration of Little Friday and the ceremonial box wine drinking that entails.

Even BFP (Big Friday Proper) is a weekly highlight.  But, Sundays?  I’ve been of a mind these last few months to figure out a way to un-celebrate.  Because, Sundays?  They are angst days.  Waking up late enough so that the 12:30 service is the only option, spending the whole time in the service thinking about what I’ve got to do when I get home; but also really wanting to go to brunch with my cousin and her family, because they are great and know me and love me and are the best and closest thing I have to friends here in Austin; and then running home and working and working until it’s time to go to sleep so I can get up and work some more.

Shittay, right?  But, this Sunday.  I mean, THIS SUNDAY.  It was not what I thought it would be and everything it should have been.  I met the 4Js (Auntie, Cousin, 2 cousin kids) at church, and the sermon was just as it should have been — and, by that, I mean, short, clear, inspiring, and to the point.  Then, the Cousin J coerced us all into a trip to a furniture auction where, because I am a crazy person, I bought this:

Yep, it's a cow.  In oil on canvas.
Yep, it’s a cow. In oil on canvas.

I named him Ernest because, in my head, he’s a young ‘un, no horns yet, so he could be male.  He’s happy in the field and taking a nap, and no one is ever going to eat him.

Then, as if that weren’t enough to get my head right, we went on ANOTHER home shopping trip and I may have bought some fancy Cynthia Rowley and Kate Spade bedding, as if I may not lose my job tomorrow.  Not the best idea financially, but just the right thing spiritually.  I’m rolling around on all that down-filled goodness-at-a-discount right now.

And just when it couldn’t get any better, we ended up here.  And, if you live near and haven’t been there, shame on you, because you can SMELL HOW GOOD IT IS FROM THE PARKING LOT!  I’m not kidding.  Get there.  Maybe next Sunday.  Because Sundays can be hard and not fun and full of worry, but they shouldn’t be, and sometimes a good meal with good company is just the thing to get over the hurdle.  If you want some company next week, I’m on deck, and can recommend, without qualification at least two orders of the Mexican-style corn.  I had it and it changed my whole outlook.  Here comes Monday!  Win it!


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