I love Sunday mornings.
One, I mistake it for a weekday and feel such solace knowing I can sleep later and work does not bekon.
Two, its summer in SA, the sun sweetly wakes me up with beautiful sun beams streaming through my make shift curtains.
I was up rather early today, it may be beause I heard my dad switching on the computor to check out BBC.com at 7am this morning. Then he came to steal "The Secret " which I borrowed from a work colleague.
I have been reading quite a few books of late, one being "Spud" written by "John van der Ruit". It occupied me each evening with its absolute silliness, intrigue and such a cheery disposition. I literally laughed out loud and ignored BF most eves enthralled by what, Spud, Mad Dog, Rambo, Fatty, Guv and the Wombat were up to. The romance with mermaid was too cute, and i recomend all South Africans to read it as well. Ironically enough I got the copy from a none South African.
But back to breakfasts, I love early mornings, they make the day stretch out so much more. There are hours to look forward to, and seeing the caressing summer sun rays, aah what can be more beautiful. I feel so optimistic, so happy so eternally blissful (wait till tomorrow and work bekons and sadness will step in), I cannot wait to go to the beach.
But now so much more to still do, on this Sunday morn. Adious amego (or however you spell that)
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