Sleep too late.
Run upstairs in your underwear and stand as discreetly as possible near open windows to have a listen and smell the air. Don't stop to brush your hair or wash your face.
Grab the first warm fleece you can find lying around, preferably one that's too big for you and belongs to the person you love best in the world. Pull it on and zip it up.
Jump into yesterday's stale jeans and roll up the legs. Mid-calf will do.
Dash outside barefoot, taking care not to miss a single sidewalk puddle.
Stand beneath a big black umbrella with the owner of the fleece. Listen and smell some more. Take a good look around, then close your eyes. Scootch closer to the owner of the fleece. Shiver. Chatter your teeth.
Interrupt the soundtrack of any videorecording being done by the owner of the fleece by making random appreciative remarks about the serendipitous precipitation.
Think about Denny's. Think about IHOP. Even think about Golden Corral.
When the feeling begins to leave your feet, go inside and stand on the entryway rug until they warm and dry a bit.
Walk back and forth between the dining room and kitchen windows and study wet hummingbirds fighting over the feeders.
Answer the phone. Share a recipe.
Watch YouTube videos with the owner of the fleece.
Decide which bad restaurant to go to for breakfast, now that it's lunchtime.
(Please enjoy our #1 Labor Day film pick, The Delicious.)
6 comments:
That sounds like the perfect morning to me.
That does sound wonderful! Oh, and might I recommend adding Village in to your list of breakfast options? Their skillets are delish.
p.s. -- I love that image!
Perfect, yes.
Did your project get done? I've been thinking about you all. Hugs!
Azucar, mornings don't get much better around here.
Wendy, I had a dog food burrito once at Village Inn and have been prejudiced ever since, but maybe with your recommendation, I'll try again next time I'm feeling American dinerish.
CW, yes, it's done, and yes it looks much more interesting and lovely than it did the day you spied it in the barn.
Perfection indeed.
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