Sunday, November 23, 2008

Sunday Afternoon, Fleeting

There are these moments after I clean my house in which everything is quiet and I can sit down for just a moment before running out or spilling something, or wondering when exactly I'm going to have time to bake a pie and whether or not I have brown sugar. Just for a moment. It's enough time to breathe once, maybe twice. And then it's gone.


3 maids a-milking:

Stephanie said...

I know that moment. It's a good one.

(I hope the pie got made. Sundays are a perfect day for pie.)

Meg said...

Well said. I wish I could turn it into three breaths. Maybe even every day.

Jen said...

The round engraved tin looks similar to one that Grandma used for stray buttons and sewing odds and ends.
~A Jeni