Sunday

For a while I let myself indulge in the fantasy that on this cold, sunny afternoon as music is playing and I'm folding sheets and Bert is juggling legos on the couch that the doorbell will ring and over will stop my mom, or one of my sisters or girlfriends, for a hot drink and a casual chat in between weekend commitments. It's a nice feeling, and then I think, they're 3,000 miles away - it's not going to happen! But still we are having fun.

We start our day with a bath and a little firedrill (poo-poo in the tub about five seconds after this picture was taken, no wondering he is smiling), followed by breakfast out at Stars. Then we convince Papa Tom that it's a good time to hang the new shelves and rods in the basement so we can organize our ski and out of season clothes down there. When we're done it looks fabulous.

While he heads out to the boat show promising not to pull a "Joly" on me (that's when you come home with a receipt for a new boat), we tidy up the house and Christian goes down for a nap. It's a very domestic day, and about eight degrees out.