Biscuits and Gravy

I woke before the sun, but it was blanketed by thick blue-grey clouds. As I peered out the window, I noticed the first daffodil blooming in the garden bed. The cool February air streamed through the open window. It was a perfect morning for warm biscuits.

The kitchen seemed to hum with contentment as I sifted flour and warmed the oven. Like a dance, I  moved through the kitchen; my family still sleeping under their down comforters. They awoke to the bubbling smell of warm butter melting atop the biscuits, homemade gravy with veggie sausage and tarragon eggs.

Gathered around the table, the room still warm from the oven, we ate and chatted of  the small and significant things that make a life. A sweet life. With the clouds still hugging the horizon, the dishes were placed on the counter as everyone made their way back to their abandoned beds, still warm from the night.

I was happy to make my way back to my own bed where this book was waiting for me. Eagerly I tucked myself under the covers and made my way back to nineteenth-century China, wandering with Snow Flower and Lily. I love Sunday morning. It is as if the weekend will never end... Enjoy the eternity of Sunday.