Throughout my life I’ve had a fantasy about Sundays that they should be relaxing. The day when you can stay home and read, or go to lunch and have a glass of white wine (for some reason it’s always white wine) or just lounge around in the sun like a cat. For most of my life I’ve worked on the weekends and when I wasn’t working I was too anxious to just relax in my own home.
But today was as close to that fantasy as I’ve ever come. I slept late, read my book in bed, sat in the sun with Jon, the donkeys, cats and chickens, had lunch on the road from the Co-op in Cambridge (no white wine), and visited Gretchen’s new litter of puppies. Not the Sunday I fantasized about, but a lovely one that I never even imagined. I’ve heard that a person has to be able to imagine something before it can happen. Perhaps one day I’ll get my Fantasy Sunday, but I’m grateful for today and that I kept open the possibility of what could happen.