What a perfect day

I close my eyes and inhale deeply. The breeze outside, where I have been reading and eating lunch, rustles the pages in my new Ted Dekker book. The freshly cut grass, damp cool earth, and the musty-new-book smells fill my nose. Going to the garden, I pick several of Chrissy's wildflowers. I choose two dark burgundy cosmos, and bright pink daisys, several orange summer flowers, and a bunch of white flowers that have so many small bright-white faces clustered together that I would never be able to count them. Taking my bouquet, I walk to the house amidst a whistling chorus of birds.



Walking in the front door I decide to leave the door open, so that the breeze can tempt the hot stuffy air inside the house to come out and play. Going to the windows in the kitchen and living room, I open them and watch as the curtains settle back down, with the occasional dance with the breeze. It is now the perfect time to clean. I spend an hour, tidying up, vacuuming, sweeping, moping, and dusting. Standing in the middle of the living room I once again take a deep breath. The smells from the cool day outside and the smells of furniture polish and soap suds combine to make a pleasant, perfectly clean perfume. Beside the laundry detergent aisle at the store, this is the best smell in the world, I think to myself.


Going to my room I put on my happy yellow apron and bring out my laptop. In the freshly scrubbed kitchen arrayed with perky and colorful flowers, I sit with my laptop and create a playlist -- filled with Glen Miller, Doris Day, Frank Sinatra, Rose Mary Clooney, and Dean Martin. Next I bring out my family recipe book and pick several things to make for dinner. Barefoot, apron clad, and swaying to the music I spend the rest of the afternoon cooking and baking. Occasionally I wipe bits of flour off of my face, unknowingly putting on more than I had attempted to remove. Time flies by until, all of a sudden, I am done and I am surrounded by dishes and the succulent aromas of baked chicken, cheese tortellini’s with a pumpkin sage sauce, and white chocolate raspberry cheesecake.


Faraway, a voice calls my name and I look up to see Dr. Munke calling roll for Social Work 301. Realization hits me as I remember that instead of a perfect day spent at home cooking and cleaning, I have two more classes and three hours of work; followed by meetings and appointments.


So much for my perfect day.