Sunday musing

After yesterdays' incredibly beautiful, clear, sunny day where everything we drove past or sat next to looked like a picture postcard, this morning is grey and rainy. It's gentle and quiet and as beautiful as yesterday, but in a more melancholic way. I feel like my emotions are bubbling through my pores, all of them - it's like my nerve-endings are all exposed. Must be the weather.

The gentle quietness, however, will last only until my lovely friends D and B and their lovelier daughter, M, (and M's new brother/sister, quietly growing to itself in D's tummy) arrive. Then the House in the Middle of the Street will change into an energy-filled playroom. My house is filled with stuff. Stuff like a large plastic dinosaur (previously mentioned in The Tragedy, Part 2). His name is Leonard, and he has been places, many places. He began as K (she who had Ava on Friday) and my pet at varsity, after various failed attempts at having real pets (another story for another day). There's a concrete mermaid outside, the bathroom is filled with plastic insects and lizards and a large plastic shark and pink plastic flamingo have set up home in there too. So, yes, M, all almost-3-years of her, likes it here, and the gentle silence will be disrupted by delighted squeals. Just how it should be on a Sunday.

Ooo, is that the doorbell?