Sundays are usually easy going, lazy, slow. Getting up a bit later, having a long breakfast, a day with no plan.Two friends came to visit Pádraig today whom he hadn’t seen for a while. They had some tea, didn’t eat the exquisite apple tart they had brought with them, and had a great time catching up. Later Pat shared some stories with Pádraig and hit the nail on the head finding the exact right tone and his (subtle) sense of humour. I caught up on sleep.
There are millions of things that need to be done. About a dozen of them quite urgently. And although all this pressure is there, it is not centre stage. Stuff that in an another life would have made it impossible to sleep is less distressing.
It’s strange how priorities change, how what is important is so relative.