It's Sunday afternoon. We had rain earlier, leaving clouds behind to soften the day's appearance. Sunshine is peaking through here and there promising a grand finale before sinking into the western horizon at the far edge of the Gulf of Mexico. I enjoyed a nap today; something that was once a daily requirement has now become a hoped-for weekend treat. I'm sipping hot coffee laced with French vanilla creamer out of the gorgeous mug with painted lilacs, given to me for last year's birthday by my lifelong friend, Christine. No one is demanding my time or attention. I'll prepare a simple supper soon, and later this evening my dear husband and I will sit together on the couch and watch the final episode of Season 2 of our new favorite, Downton Abbey on PBS. Other than that I'm free. In these moments on this quiet Sunday, I am free.
I have wandered around Facebook and perused Twitter. Signed up for another free book in exchange for writing a review on my blogsite, making it two books I'm waiting for. Who doesn't love new books, especially free ones? After we eat pizza . . . our Sunday evening ritual . . . I will listen while my husband reads what he wrote yesterday in the novel he's currently working on. He's almost finished with the first draft and already I'm convinced this is sure to be a best-seller. He truly has what it takes to be a novelist. Not only is he a talented writer, he is also a skilled writer, and he is extremely disciplined. I believe all three qualities together provide the best predictor of success as a writer. I also get to be his first editor. The first to hear his words once they've escaped his brain and landed on the page. And I am his collaborator. Some scenes require a woman's touch, or an injection of emotion. Hubby trusts me to offer thoughtful and usually helpful advice. We work well together when we write.
Tomorrow is a lovely day off from school in honor of Presidents Day. I will keep my sweet grandson, Spencer, while his mommy returns to work after maternity leave. I will also take care of him on Tuesday and Wednesday. Since he doesn't get his first immunizations until later in the week, he can't go to daycare yet. I'm thrilled to forgo my job for a couple of days to spend with Spencer. He has changed so much already and he will be two months old on Thursday. He's smiling and beginning to coo and he still allows his grandma to cuddle him endlessly.
Lest you think I'm rambling down unconnected rabbit trails, dear reader, I am not. You see, in the midst of work and household chores demanding attention, and life seeming to pass by at breakneck speed, these quiet Sundays when naps are possible . . . these moments to sip coffee and snoop around on Facebook . . . looking forward to a British drama or the latest installment of my husband's novel . . . looking into the face of my smiling grandson or rocking him to sleep . . . these are all snippets of bliss to me. And until I'm blessed with the freedom to live my bliss on a full time basis, I will snag them when they come close enough for me to reach. Because these are the moments that make life rich. These are the moments I reflect upon and look forward to when I feel the chaos of the lesser life swirling around me. These are the blissful moments I close my eyes and whisper a prayer of gratitude because in them I'm free.