I realize that's not the title of that song, but it fit today, and today is Sunday.
I woke up this morning (reluctantly) feeling like someone had beat me. Or like I had just bicycled two days in a row for a total of 106 miles and stayed up past my bedtime watching college football. I didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to drink coffee and read the paper and play the new game Katydid got me hooked on and be a vegetable all day.
In a rather strange turn of events, however, I decided to go visit my mother.
I know, right?
I called her before I could change my mind, because then I COULDN'T change my mind. I told her I would be there around lunchtime, after she went to church. Then I went to the grocery store so I wouldn't have to do THAT chore when I got home from Mom's.
I know, right?
I sort of dreaded the trip to Mom's, and not just because she lives an hour away. Usually as soon as I get there, she wants to go somewhere to eat, and that means driving another half hour in one direction or the other, sometimes back to the very town I just went through to GET to her house. (Meeting there for lunch would make way too much sense.)
I also dreaded the trip because going to Mom's usually puts me in a funk. It's hard to describe and harder to explain, but let me say right here in this public forum that I realize my attitude is at least part of it. Like 5%. Just kidding. Mom is a difficult person to know, but I won't use this space to talk about relationships or family dynamics or childhoods or anything like that.
I made the decision to go visit, and I made a conscious decision to go with a cheerful heart and just go along with whatever she wanted to do. To my surprise, Mom did NOT want to go out to eat. She had cooked some pinto beans and a small pork roast, and she made slaw and rice and biscuits to go with them.
We had a nice lunch, then we walked to the top of "the hill," the highest point on the property that she and my brother share.
I love that place. It is so peaceful, so serene (is that redundant?), and so quiet. We petted the horses, then we went back down the hill to sit on Mom's new front porch in her new swing. We just sat and visited, which was much nicer than getting in the car with me driving all over a town I'm not completely familiar with.
The visit was so pleasant that when I came home, I was inspired. I brought home some leftover pinto beans for Hubby (one of his favorites), then I made beef chunks, cornbread, fried okra, and squash casserole to go with them. (He won't touch the squash casserole, or any kind of casserole, but I promised mother-in-law I would make one for her and me.) I hope Hubby doesn't expect to eat like that every night. I also did a load of laundry and thought about mopping the floor, but that's as far as I got with that. (There's always tomorrow, as Scarlett O'Hara would sort of say.)
This is just a (rather long-winded) way to say that rather than putting me in a funk like it usually does, visiting with my mother inspired me to be at least a little productive when I got home.
Just don't tell her that one underlying reason for today's visit was that the Falcons weren't playing today. And please don't judge me. Baby steps.
1 comment:
Kinda reminds me of the days when we would do that when I was younger. Have breakfast or some meal at Nannys instead of going out. She always made good food.
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