There have been and always been super Sundays. Super super Sundays even.
And on the days you least expect it, there are super smashing Sundays.
The mornings you wake with the sunlight streaming through the windows as you lie in the arms of love.
The days when you take to your bikes en masse with friends who help you explore the hidden and secret jewels of the countryside tracks surrounding you; the beauty of the earth and the feel of the wind racing; the pit stops for wild brambles and breath.
The moment you open your door to your legendary Dad, beaming with his Edna and welcome them in. Just to have them here. That is all.
The lazy afternoons on the terraces and balcony, watching and whiling the moments with tea, cake, turning to wine as the sun set.
The evenings of sumptuous, virtuous meals made of home grown produce.
Then nights of cozying together, still not quite believing this, this life, this love, this gratitude is at all possible.