It's a lovely quiet morning here. Sundays always have had and still do have an entirely different flavor than any other day of the week. When I was growing up we were dragged to church every Sunday. Once I was on my own, it took on different flavors. Back in the day, when the Sunday newspaper was still a thing - and big thing - I would wallow in all parts of it for hours ending with the puzzles. For many years, Sunday was travel day. I'd meet my boss and/or others at the airport usually in the afternoon. My workweek then would kind of kick off in a nice, 'wanna cocktail?' kind of way. When I was working at home here in Seattle, Sundays were a wonderful gift. Uninterupted time to catch up on all my work. I loved it. Now that I'm retired, Sundays are just a nice little jewel in the week. A quiet, peaceful, nothing to worry about, nothing can be done about it anyway until Monday, kind of day.
There's a ballgame at 1. And that's it for planned activity. I have books and tv and knitting to fill up the rest of the day. Nice.