Jefferson

Sunday started out lazily. We took a 2+ hour nap after church before breaking our fast with:

• Frosted Mini Spooners (aka: Frosted Mini Wheats)
• Roasted Peanuts
• Peanut butter and generic Ritz crackers
• a microwave garlic and herb mini pizza
• another microwave meal
• tuna and crackers
• Sunday "dinner" made miss home, and/or having a real kitchen with real food

Husband was fine with the whole scavenger approach to dinner, but I was really missing a hot, rounded meal. There will have to be better planning for next week's "meals."

After "dinner" and doing a bit of cleaning, we headed out for a long walk to the Jefferson Memorial. It was another highlight night for us as we talked and listened and soaked in the sights and setting sun.


We got to the memorial right as the sky began to be illuminated and cast in colors of purple and gold. Sitting on the steps brought a measure of solace as we stayed and scanned the scene in front of us. Dotted with masses of elementary school groups, the walk in front of the memorial was busy and chatty. But when I turned around to look past the heavyset pillars, there was a sense of serenity in the memorial itself.


We sat for awhile, made a phone call to MotherCheer for Mom's Day and enjoyed being together, still. While watching the sun set Husband had his hand on my back and started to rub it when a woman came over and said in a grumbly voice, "I'm next for a backrub." She proceeded to ask if she could sit, "there," pointing to the step in front of Husband. He replied with a friendly, "Absolutely," not realizing she was edging in on my prime backrubbing realestate. I don't think he got her joke, but I was glad she merely smiled at us and continued walking down the stairs.


The night was beautiful in all sorts of ways. From where we were sitting we had a perfect view, cut through the trees, of the White House. Husband sat there looking at it and I began to tease and sing, "I love to see the White House, I'm going there someday, to govern all the people, to listen and to pray . . ." He only thought it was sort of funny, but the tune was stuck in his head all night and we got a good laugh out of it.

Finally, here is another postcard picture, in honor of our Mothers who are wishing there is a person in it. You get enough of our faces. Promise.