It's reasonably well accepted amongst most people I know that Sunday afternoons can be a depressing time of the week. The melancholy can be exacerbated by relationship status, how hungover you are, and whatever happens to be playing on your stereo.
They can be great. A good old fashioned Sunday session, or maybe pancakes for dinner? A Sunday night roast with a bunch of mates, or dinner with your family, or some solid couch time with friends and snacks and duvets.
I learnt long ago that moping is no good, but that baking and exercise can do wonders. Bon Iver came on this afternoon as a lull was setting in. I knew though in my heart of hearts that exercise was the only answer (baking wasn't, because I thought the oven was broken. The timer was just on a funny setting though, thank goodness) so for the first time in ages, I donned my un-matching, un-fluro, raggy exercise gear and sorted myself out with endorphins, in probably one of Auckland's prettiest places to be in Spring.
Sundays can be a bit shit. But with a run and some head-clearing and some Rihanna, I realised that actually, Sunday, and this weekend just gone, was totally sweet.
A brief Sunday night list of awesome things:
Cornwall Park in Spring (see especially: adorable lambs).
South Indian food from Satya on K Rd.
Hangover free weekend!
Friends doing marathons for charity, and fundraising with baked goods.
Running unexpectedly into someone you like.
Great yarns.
Afternooon naps in the sun.
Stand up comedy (Ben Hurley last night. Hilarious, partly because the couple in the front row who arrived late were on their first date, and he was her personal trainer. Comedy gold).
Double sleep-ins.
Cofffffeeeee.
Perfect poached eggs.
Dim Sum Plum on your fingers and toes.
Asparagus.
As always at this time of year, asparagus. So much asparagus. Cooked like this, or like this, or especially like this. My little sis and I had it for dinner with a squeeze of lemon and a slither of parmesan, alongside steak and kumara chips. There was no time for moping; getting moving and getting in the kitchen gets me every time.
Asparagus is the best of the grasses. Though there is very little in this world that isn't improved by parmesan, lemon juice and steak.
ReplyDeleteWhen I lived in Vancouver, the Sunday afternoon mopes inspired a group of friends and neighbours to have a Sunday night dinner every week at a different flat. It was a great tradition that lasted many years. It filled Sunday with market shopping, cooking, eating and drinking... and nobody gave work in the morning a thought, until they woke up on Monday -- more often than not with a hangover. But what fun.
ReplyDeleteLOVE asparagus. I've been wanting to plant an asparagus bed for the longest time. I need to get onto it as I understand it takes 3 years for it to start producing! Good on you for banishing the Sunday blues.
ReplyDelete"a slither of parmesan" ?
ReplyDeleteI think you probably meant "sliver" there.
Oh man that's so funny, I've been using it wrong this whole time!
Delete