weekending

The sunrise this morning was a splendid spectrum of pinks. The slightest shade of purple teasing around the edges too. A sky to impart the wonder of a new day and the potential of a new week. I felt it. Teddy was tune master as we made our way to the first morning bus. A ride early enough he can make it to Madison for his first class of the week. He switched out Kayne for Biscuit knowing that I would rather welcome my day with softer words and a happy beat. Mike texted from the runway just before we made it to the station. He's on his way to Dallas this week. I stopped home in time to get Lily to school. She observed that the boys came home and left at the same time. It will be another girl's week. And it will be good.

We had a whirlwind of a family weekend most of which was spent at Windmill Beach where the 2020 Winter Olympics were hosted. Ted took gold, Mike silver and Brad bronze. The ladies are already staging a staggering upset in 2021. This year's events were Wizard at Lily's request, putting, floor shuffle, Nerf target shooting and pong. We also spontaneously celebrated my sil's birthday. Lily was the first to call it a night Saturday as the clock struck twelve.. She crawled into our bed and was lulled to sleep by the  boy's poker fest just outside her door. It reminded me of being a kid. There were countless parties I would sneak away to steal some sleep soothed by the party going on outside the door. I didn't have the heart to rouse her so we swapped rooms and I slept fast and sound in her usual twin bed next to my husband in another. I woke to bird's song not waves cresting. All good.

Sunday morning looked, smelled and felt like spring. The light is changing. It's more luminous. Radiant. Vivid. I opened the door and was met with a whiff of fertile air. Fecund. Heavy, yet fresh. The world is thawing and coming back to life. It's an assault on the senses.We opened windows. We didn't need jackets. Ted ran in shorts and then dipped his seven mile sore feet in the biting lake running barefoot across the melting snow to the house where I greeted him with a bowl of hot water to clean the sand from his feet. At that point it was too cold for the hose.

I opted out of a walk and instead tucked myself into a comfy reading corner with a cup of my brother's vigorous brew ladled with extra cream. We eventually switched to mimosas while we put together our much talked about brunch. Ted and I got busy making his famous banana pancakes, Truly I was only there for company and sous chef support. I learned all about Cloudy Cakes. It's this week's summer venture dream. Brad smartly put the bacon on the grill and his favorite fried chicken in the oven to reheat and then scrambled up a dozen eggs with the most beautiful orange yolks. They were almost too pretty to eat. And btw fried chicken for brunch is a Windmill Beach thing, but it should be a thing everywhere. I cut a pineapple just for good measure. Simply to offer the illusion of health. It could have been our only meal of the day and we would have been blessed.

We ended our time at Windmill Beach with one last Wizard competition and made it home scarcely before sunset. After laundry and packing and a quick steam, Ted and I tag teamed Sunday night dinner. He had a hankering for Chicken Parm and we served up the best yet from this kitchen. Somehow we all managed to enjoy a serving despite declaring after brunch that we would fast the rest of the day. I love how he comes home and doesn't only want to eat...he wants to cook. We didn't have enough energy for a goodnight game. Well aware we all were of this morning's fast looming approach.

If only weekends could last a little longer. But they end and too soon.

Grateful for the evidence and remnants of all the fun we had.