Twenty ten: Winter.

We celebrated three years with a trip to Santa Barbra.

We hung out with Benny.

We got a food processor.

We went to the farmer’s market.

We had bonfires.

We said goodbye to our Christmas trees.

We took up tennis.

We went to a NBA game. We watched the kids we coach play on the court at half time.

We turned 24. (And 25. And 26, 27, 28.)

We hung out with Benny a little more.

While making PW recipes.

We did a puzzle.

M came to visit.

We coached. Three seasons.

We were counted.

We finished Everwood.

Sunday is…

Sunday is:

Sleeping in. Coffee. Looking in an empty fridge, because June = travel. Cereal. Cleaning the kitchen, first. straighten the house. New garage springs. No more nearly being squashed by the door. Biking to the hardest yoga session I’ve ever been too. Circle of abs. Biking to my hair cut. “Do you sleep on this side of your head? Have you been stressed?” A fortune-telling hairdresser. Helmet on: bike home. Lunch. Tuna, because once again – fridge = empty. Tennis with Jeff. Lots of sunscreen. Shower, a second call, to ask, “Are you SURE you don’t need us to bring anything?” They didn’t. Cricket’s to a wonderful party. Vodka-cran, burger. BBQ chicken wings. Friends, laughing. Birthday presents = a presidential dog puzzle = perfect. New kitchen pot holders. Bookends for Jeffrey. A perfect day. Laughing. Smiling. Continuation of Saturday. Same friends, different day. Perfect day.

Talk of the rest of the summer. How quickly it will go.

Next up? BBQ at home. Later, chickadees.