Sunday perfection

At this time of year, the sun rises so that its first rays shine across our bedroom, neither obstructed by the houses opposite nor rising too far to the east to fall upon our bed. This Sunday the sky was cloudless and blue-pink at dawn, waking both Moonface & I up to a quiet house; both children asleep.
So, yes.

Then, whilst Moonface pottered around the house and garden, I spent an hour and a half playing with a bicycle on the Downs & in the woods, making the most of the hard ground in the early frost.

We ate, we went for a walk in the western Cotswolds, across the Iron Age fort above Horton and down into the village. There, we inspected a camper van which Moonface is threatening to buy, and felt distinctly keen about it. But it's too much money! We walked back to the car, thinking and subdued.

I cooked a traditional Sunday roast again, for all five of us, feeling relaxed at the ritual and timing of putting food onto the table. I tried a new mash of mixed parsnip & swede, which seems to combine the best of both vegetables. Its success pleased me.

Then, in the evening, I listened to music and read a blackly humorous crime thriller, pleasantly exhausted.

But not too exhausted. So yes, again.
Bliss.