Lovely Sunday...

You couldn't ask for a nicer Sunday. It started off right with a darkly brewed pot of coffee. I like to make my coffee strong and then add lots of milk and sugar, so that it's like the café con leche I used to get at the bodega around the corner from my old apartment.

While the dew was still clinging to the grass blades, we went outside and picked some vegetables and herbs from the garden. I marveled at all the growing things. My toad lilies have buds. The peonies I just got are already bursting out of their pots and are budding. Soon they'll need to be planted in the ground. The marigolds have little baby plants popping up all around their bases. My mother taught me to break off the brown and withering heads and stick them around the plants. "This one makes the babies."

My little cats sat at my feet while I chopped the vegetables and whisked the eggs for a frittata. I used the Amish cheese we got from down the road. I remember waking up early on Sunday mornings, when everything and everyone else was still sleeping and making this for my roommates. I didn't grow the vegetables then – they were small things purchased at the corner store probably grown in a hothouse in the Wilds of New Jersey.

The windows are still open and a breeze is coming through. It smells like freshly cut grass, mint, and wood. I have all my albums by Sigur Ros on repeat. They are the soundtrack for this lovely Sunday.