Sunday’s are the least favorite day of the week. It goes back to after the divorce and my ex-husband would pick up my two for Sunday lunch. His visitation was the entire weekend. He did not avail himself of this privilege choosing to make them “Sunday Children”. I cleaned house while they were gone and prepared their school clothes for the next week. We did not have as much, but they would be clean and pressed. It seemed to me that they came home sad. Maybe this was just my perception. Later, it came to my attention that he and his significant other loved to “trash ” me. I was an alcoholic….where did I get the money to buy liquor or even wine? Yes, I smoked for which I am now very sorry. I hate the smell of smoke now and because my Dad was an alcoholic, I was terrified of becoming addicted.
Therefore, on Sunday’s when my task were done, I would think of my childhood home and place my mind there with my Raggedy Ann, dressing and undressing her in all the many outfits my mom had made for her. My mom must have loved me very much. She would help me unstuff Raggedy Ann, wash her gently, and then we would restuff her all clean and new. I slept with her every night, still do.
I have looked up items for the yard sale; tried to remember the past is forever gone and now Raggedy Ann and I are on a different journey finding our way back to that farm I loved then and now.
I ate at Waffle House for breakfast and Brenda brought me a great lunch. The pillows are still drying and I think I shall numb out on Hallmark’s Chanel movies…unreal expectations in love and life.
Hope your Sunday has been great; if you were in a place of worship, I hope the leader did not keep you longer than 15 minutes! Our attention span is about that long.
Tomorrow I have two doctors appointment; one I will simply urinate in a cup; not a clue what the Oncologist will say. Whatever it is will be great as I dance through the clouds and rain.
Come dance with me?