I feel fairly sure that this morning's title will reappear unless I am very careful, since it comes to mind every single Sunday of my life since I first heard the song (Merkin, Dave Triebwasser -- don't remember what the album was called, sorry!) and that was back in the 90's sometime. It's a beautiful Sunday morning, though, cool breeze keeping the sun at bay, and a quiet, empty cul-de-sac out the window. The only thing is my neighbor's dog, which has been steadily howling for hours. HOURS! Long, quiet, plaintive howls, and no one is paying him the slightest attention. No one is even waking up enough to throw a boot out a window.
I am still in this strange-and-growing-stranger position, of trying to sell my house, trying to find a job, trying to be The Best Possible Mother, and trying to maintain. Growing stranger as my small hoard of gold gets smaller and smaller (steadily chipped away at by my teen-aged son, who also has no job but does have a car and NEEDS to fix the power steering or the dent in the front fender or what have you).
House is clean, though. Looking around I feel quite satisfied with its quiet tidiness.