A Simple Recipe for the Perfect Day
This month is all about fun and recreation (click here if you want to fill your month with fun). To kick it off, I wrote some reflections on a day I had recently that filled me to the brim with happiness. I hope you enjoy! And just a quick note before we get to it, the best way I can grow my newsletter is by readers sharing it out. I would also love to hear your comments. Thanks for being here!
By Friday each week, I can feel my capacity totally diminished. I drag myself home with this little glimmer of excitement about the weekend away of me. I know that the perfect weekend is just around the corner. After all, it's the weekend! All bets are off and anything is possible. There's no rush to do anything in particular, and that in itself is a relief. It's finally time to relax and take things slow. I purposefully plan very little on weekends and what plans I do have, revolve mostly around my kids and eating. One of the best spaces in our home is the backyard. When it's the end of the rainy season and we start to see the temperature creep up towards 65 degrees, we are outside most of the day. My two year old and I start the day with a tour of the garden. We grow different varieties of lettuce, parsley, carrots, beets, and potatoes. The ranunculus I purchased from the Dollar Store last year and planted, made a surprise arrival a few weeks back. He helps me to give them water. We examine the work that the gophers did the night before and what fresh tunnels they have added to their playscape. We move rocks from a big pot to a truck. We check out the trees and then look for pill bugs in the grass. We take our time, stopping to observe and see what we can notice. Airplanes take off from the regional airport nearby and we point at each one overhead until we no longer can see it. By this time, the sun has made its way to the top of the arc in its journey and its light fills half of the backyard. My son points to his pool and then over at the hose. He quickly grabs all the toys he can find strewn about the yard while I put water in his pool. I retreat to the porch and recline in the sun while he plays. We are both hunker down in our spots, feeling like time stands still while we sit with contented hearts.
Hours later after we have had all had naps, we pile into the car and head over to San Gregorio General Market. I have heard that they have live music Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. We drive along the coast, still amazed by how close we are to such a beautiful and vast ocean. The water sparkles from the sun, while surfers wait to catch the perfect wave. Once we get there, my husband grabs a few drinks for us and we find a table outside. The music, played by The Mild Colonial Boys, is described as taken from "many aspects of Americana music, Irish traditional dance tunes and songs, some original songs, Vaudevillian ballads, old time story-telling, political commentary and some downright lies." Sitting at the last table in the back, we are somewhat removed from the music. We quickly meet the people around us. There is a couple next to us with the sweetest little dog named Betty Pumpkin. There is another young couple who live just up the road, one born and raised here and the other from England. Then there is the man in front of us that my two year old tries to strike up a conversation with. He eventually says, "I don't speak English." Thinking I am funny I let him know, "that's okay, neither does my two year old, really" but I don't know that he understands. It's a relief to be around people again, just having a chat about this and that. We order more drinks and share some stories. As the sun is starting to wane we start to say our goodbyes, promising to meet up again soon.
We head home, my son is content in the backseat holding the rocks he picked up in the parking lot. I too am content to be driving back up the coast. I know that weekends like this are what make life good, and what feed our souls.