Have you ever noticed that a three day weekend is sometimes better than a whole week's vacation? Maybe it's just me. But either way, it is, and it was.
We went to the farmer's market. Matt smoked ribs. Jane watered plants on the patio. She also picked and smelled at least 40 basil leaves. Whatever floats your boat, girl.
There were fresh flowers on the table. The house smelled like laundry. I rearranged plates on the wall. Matt took a nap. The dining room went from powder blue to alabaster white (more on that later). I drank a decaf vanilla latte and ate a cheese danish on Monday morning, in my pajamas, watching Good Morning America. That's just straight luxury.
Jane drew her first legible drawing, a "wainbow." She was so proud.
I found a thrift painting and added it the wall in the living room.
Mabel stayed at command central (on a quilt, on the couch, with a full view of the front window in case ninjas or pirates decided to invade).
This was my three day weekend.
I'd like a repeat, please.
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