Skip to main content

Soothing Sundays

A late lie-in, selection of papers, eggs Benedict & spoonfuls of fabulous marmalade.

To me all these things mean it’s Sunday. A day were running on time isn’t what’s important, but taking the time to languish over everything is.

And that’s what I’ve done this morning. I may have woken up early (what’s new) but I lay in bed, dozed, read my book and when I was ready for the world – rather than the other way around – I flopped out of bed. Without rushing or thinking too hard I rummaged around for an outfit, brushed my teeth and made myself presentable to the world. Letting my feet do the thinking I bumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen: time for feeding.

Having previously sneakily placed the remainder of the Hollandaise sauce in the back of the fridge, out of general sight, I had a plan for breakfast this morning. From Monday to Saturday I eat a healthy, regulated breakfast. But on Sundays I crack the egg, splash out on the buttered toast and have one too many cups of coffee.

With a large pot of coffee, the Sunday paper magazines and my perfectly poached egg luxuriating in the Hollandaise I settled in for what should probably be called brunch. One of the joys of a Sunday, for me, is almost aimlessly leafing through magazines and newspapers. So with my fork piled high, aimed in the direction of my keen mouth, I set about page turning.

It was in this manner that I worked away at the contents of my plate until, inevitably, I came to the last bite. For me this is always the best bite, and for it to be the best bite it needs to have a little bit of everything. A piece of the crunchy toast, a sliver of the smoky ham, a smattering of egg white & lashings of runny egg yolk, salt & pepper and of course enough creamy Hollandaise to coat everything sufficiently. And in a perfect world nothing more will touch my lips for the next 10 minutes while I lavish in the luxuriating flavours in my mouth, intriguingly contemplating the scrumptious joys I’m experiencing.

Half an hour later, when the first half of breakfast has started to digest, it’s time to start contemplating breakfast’s version of pudding: marmalade on toast. It may be a good idea to mention that if you don’t have an outstanding marmalade this course isn’t really worth getting too excited about and, of course, you can always substitute marmalade for your favourite preserve. For me a hot slice of toast needs to coats. The first, the primer, a layer of butter. The second, the top coat, generous spoonfuls of marmalade.

Crunching away on this citrus delight, contemplating my horoscope (quickly thrown away if it’s not to my liking, or read again if it looks promising) and sipping on the last of my coffee. The perfect way to start any Sunday.



Popular posts from this blog

Marking milestones

When Bug was born, well a month or so after, I bought some cards to mark her milestones. Who knew that I should have bought them when I was preggo? So we missed a few photos… But now I find myself attempting to dressing her up for her milestones, only for her to accessorise them with accoutrements such as vomit! Then I jump around, cajoling her into smiling, while hopefully the camera is in focus and I actually press the snap button.  Those photos are all well and good. But I want some real-life photos and babies aren’t renown for their on-cue performances! So how do you actually get that photo of her first tooth?!?  That’s one of the current milestones we’re trying to mark. And she’s not particularly given to opening her mouth wide, unless it’s to cry loudly! I may not be parent of the year, but I’m not about to start taking photos of her mouth while she cries! So, it’ll just have to wait until she smiles for a prolonged period, while I conveniently have the camera to hand! Case in po

4 month sleep regression

I write to you from Hell… just kidding, I’m on the foot stool next to Bug’s bed. Not talking, not touching, just sitting while she lies with her head facing the other way. And every few minutes gives an attempt at a cry.  But at least she’s in her bed! She’s completely refused all naps in her bed so far this week. So this is a major win! I’m talking champagne, the I proper stuff… or at least a really large glass of whatever is open in the fridge.  Now bedtime is the stuff nightmares are made from! Bedtime used to be a pleasant routine, now it’s a panic-inducing labour. I’m pretty sure my blood pressure is through the roof, climbing from approximately 18:00, in anticipation of the dreaded sleep attempts! Last night was an early 22:00ish before she was down. The night before, midnight. And over the weekend, one night her refusals were so adamant that I got a sum total of zero hours sleep. By midnight it was clear the only way she’d sleep was in my arms. So Bug and I got the big bed. She

One good thing about social distancing…

Is that nobody comes too close and I can get away with only half brushing my teeth (no toothpaste, had Bug in my arms and wouldn’t have been able to rinse). And not wearing deodorant (again, the baby!) Also, still wearing some of my pyjamas, semi-disguised  as day clothes… But nobody can really tell cause they can’t get too close! Win! On top of that we had a very successful walk. The dog mostly listened and was easily distracted by treats. Bug slept the whole time and was seemingly nose-blind. And my back pocket doubled up as my coffee cup holder! Hands-free, here we come!  Oh, and because we were out walking for so long - two hours, until it was time for the next feed - the dog is exhausted! He hasn’t been this tired since his play date with best friend Amber! Lucky x