Sunday Nights

I have such vivid memories of Sunday nights.  Growing up, we were still out on our bicycles trying to get in one more ride around the block before dark, using a blade of grass for a whistle, or just sitting for few more minutes in the tree in the park.  Talking.  Laughing. No cell phones.  Good times.

Sunday nights during nursing school meant one of two things.  Scavenging the dorm to see what everyone had done on their weekend home, or getting off from a 40 hour weekend at work.  "Working extra" we called it.  Starting Friday at 3pm, we would work until 7am Saturday, go back at 3pm and work til 7am Sunday, then round out the weekend with a 3-11 shift on Sunday.  So those Sunday nights were pretty much falling into bed for a few hours sleep. Good times

When my children came along, Sunday nights meant packing up to go home after a weekend at Mama and Daddy's when Barry worked EMS all weekend.  As they grew, Sunday nights were spent winding down from softball, roller hockey, or a cookout with friends.  There were also those Sunday nights getting back from Taekwondo tournaments and unpacking the trophies and the suitcases.  Good times.

When Whitney left for college, Sunday's often meant sending her back to Athens.  And waiting. It is my right as a mother to worry. After the requisite phone call, I could relax and piddle around until bedtime. Good times. (once everyone was back where they were supposed to be)

Now that we have the proverbial "Empty Nest", Sundays just give me time to think about what I've done over the weekend.  Plan for the week ahead.  This weekend was productive.  I made a "Dukes of Hazzard" birthday cake for Cole.  Tried some brioche dough in the bread machine that I used for cinnamon rolls.  They turned out pretty good.  Combination sticky buns/cinnamon rolls.  I finished the third of six ancillary projects for my book.  Getting close.  I watch my Sunday night show - The Amazing Race.  I am pretty much a Cowboys fan.  I almost get too nervous to watch.  And now - for the two hundredth time - Sweet Home Alabama.  Good times.

The windows are open and I hear the night sounds.  Crickets.  Takes me back to that tree in the park.  Good times.