When we use the car

It's Sunday. Which means we actually get in the car, and use it. That annual $28 permit fee is finally being put to use. We eat breakfast somewhere, even though it's usually time for lunch because we've slept in and chatted the morning away... And then we go grocery shopping. You love it when we walk through the aisles together, picking delicious things to eat. Normally I choose things that require no preparation, like dried mango and heirloom tomatoes. And you choose yummy spices, breads and teas. Today was a real find: peanut butter toffuti cuties and a new cheese. Daisies for the entrance and some good wine. Last night we stayed in. You made a delicious tuscan white bean tomato soup, while I painted with my favorite brown ink, at the table in the kitchen. And now we are home, I've unpacked the groceries and you threw the trash and recycling away. We are about to start doing our respective projects. You have found a new spot to work in the apartment, and you love it.

When I was younger, I got the worst depression on Sunday nights. I called them my Sunday Blues. No explanation, and not necessarily for any reason. Over the years with you, this has happened less and less. I really love Sundays with you...