This morning, we woke up late. Ben was going to work out, but I made a great case for fried eggs, orange juice, coffee, and sitting around – something neither of us get to do very often. He didn’t take much convincing.
Our third floor apartment looks out over a little green wetland area, so even though we’re close to a major road, it feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere, sitting in a treehouse.
So this morning, we sat at the kitchen table in our treehouse, drinking coffee, eating eggs and olive rosemary bread, and talked about silly things. No rush. No hurry.
I’m grateful for moments like these. I hope that one finds you this Memorial Day.