Sunday, sunday I kinda hate this day

I am not a big fan of Sunday.

We usually try to have a special family dinner each Sunday. Rolf and I often go to coffee with the kids, at the Pearl Bakery downtown, and pretend we are in Europe.

It gives Mark a break and it also lets me feel a little bit grown up and elegant, although I don't know how keen the Pearl folks are on having me in my jammies (well not quite, but in my Sunday clothes, nearly jammies) and my children, who since birth have been chowing down on pistoles and hot chocolate. Today there was a single dad with a 1 year old and a three year old, and that took some of the heat off of F.

Sunday dinner- That part is nice, but there is a big long stretch of day that often feels overwhelming.

I have been sickly with a cold for a since Wednesday night.

I am not good at being sick.

I am cranky and I don't like to be idle.

Today, in addition to having a stuffed up nose, my neck went all wacky.

For a moment I thought I was having a stroke- there was this shooting pain, from between my shoulder blades, right up out of the top of my head.
Then I felt all floaty, only for an instant, then back to feeling all shitty- since then, my neck has been stiff, and I have a splitting headache, I am dizzy and I feel like I cannot turn my head properly .

I am also bored as hell, and tired of being so low energy.
so I went out to spread my germiness on all the unsuspecting yuppies at the Pearl, that part felt kind of good.

Later in the afternoon, Maxwell and I walked about a quarter of a mile, to a nursery to purchase nasturtium & pansy seeds, to plant on the deck in my kitchen garden pots, since it was bright and sunny, and I was feeling so house bound.

By the time I got inside the house, I was ready to fall down on the sofa and not get up.

Thankfully, I had done the dinner prep early in the morning and Rolf, finished up with minor instructions, from the whiner in the next room.

We had mushroom goulash, (cooked all day to perfection!) boiled potatoes, asparagus, sweet & sour red cabbage, and some baguette from the Pearl.

It would put any Austrian gasthaus to shame, if I do say so myself.

Not very witty or inspired, but I have my commitment to write everyday, so there you are.

Here are some photos of Sunday evening at the finchaus
the kids and Mark goofing around with "homework", freyja being a camera hog, and the kitchen looking like a mess.