Aah, Sunday Sunday.

Sometimes, it’s admitting defeat and hauling your 7 months pregnant body out of bed and attempting {and failing} to get comfortable and any sleep on Alf’s bloody bean bag, and just starting your day…even if it is only 5.30am…it’s the bowl of coco pops and a coffee with all the windows open as it’s such a lovely morning…it’s heading out straight after for your daily walk, hoping for a nap when you get back…it’s the cute lambs and calf’s peeping through hedges as you walk past…it’s catching up with a friend who lives literally round the corner and you haven’t seen in forever far too early on a Sunday morning for the both of you…it’s getting back home to an empty house and heading up for that nap…only for a strimmer to start up not too far away…it’s all the laughs and some sense of normality for a Sunday with family in the village pub garden which has only just opened following the dreaded Coronavirus…it’s apple and strawberry crumble…it’s snuggling up outside catching the last of the Sun before it disappears for a few days…finished off with a good soak in the bath singing all the power ballads.

I bloody love a Sunday when it’s as good as this one…sleep or no sleep.

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