Sane Sunday. The Bonfire.

 

Another Sane Sunday~ making order out of chaos.

The Bonfire.

It’s actually becoming a habit—and that’s the point.

Crickets are chirping, there’s a chill in the air (we’re down to 60°), and I’m sipping mint tea instead of coffee. 

Coffee has been a tradition for me since  I was little—sitting on my Mormor’s lap and sipping her Swedish coffee while she taught me to play solitaire.

As of late my stomach has been bothering me, so I’m experimenting~dandelion root and mint tea.

The Caribbean and Nordic cultures are clashing on that one.

This is what these Sane Sunday rituals are beginning to feel like: the taking back of mySELF.

Not that they went anywhere. 

Not gone—just pushed down, put on the back burner, until they can no longer be ignored.

Chores come early. We all know that. We live it.

So I was up in the wee hours, already moving while everything was still quiet. 

But this morning I stopped for a few seconds and listened. There was a strange sound in that 4:00 a.m. quiet—one I don’t recognize.

That unfamiliar noise stopped, but that small pause—listening long enough to notice—slowed everything down.

And here’s what I’m noticing: this deep quiet cannot be bought. It is priceless~good‑for‑the‑soul priceless. It feels like a good day to read… to journal the deep thoughts. Along the lines of that book title, Excavating the Soul.

This is what these Sane Sunday rituals are beginning to feel like: the taking back of mySELF.

Not that those silent whispers went anywhere. Not gone—just pushed down and postponed until I finally sat still long enough to hear them…

And somehow, that quiet pause turned into this.

A Sunday habit.

After 30 days, it becomes a tradition.

My own little ritual.

 A gift I give myself.

I can physically feel it—the deep exhale. You don’t realize how much tension you’re carrying until you release it, even for a few minutes. 

Profound.

It actually feels good, physically and mentally. Just a few minutes to yourself.

I’m still negotiating the Nordic/Caribbean clash. 

Not sure how the head will respond with no caffeine yet… more headaches? I don’t need any more of those. 

Might need hot cacao—my own version of the cacao tea they drink in the Caribbean.

 I wish someone would make a mixture of hot cacao and coffee. That would fix this clash. Well… maybe.

Pondering's~ would I burn the extra calories from the hot cacao while sipping the caffeine in  the coffee? My mind works like that sometimes . 

I do know one thing—this cooler weather feels like my own little backyard bonfire kind of day.

It’s twenty degrees cooler than it was last week and I’m already freezing, so the hot chocolate may need a touch of ‘antifreeze’.

Burn the fallen limbs and brush from the last storm, and turn it into a bonfire.

(Lovin’ this new fire ring. Will  get the screen cover as there are no hoses where I go to unwind.)

 

(And this new Stihl handsaw is so good I named her “Precious”.)

 

By nightfall, it becomes exactly what I needed—quiet, warmth, and that release of tension in the neck and shoulders .

Now if only the migraine would lift as easily as the smoke rising from the bonfire.

Unwind by the Bonfire light ~ because I’m worth it.

I feel like a MasterCard commercial: (re)charge it.

I am paying myself back—and it is priceless.

(I should have had the coffee.)

You’re cordially invited — come as you are, wherever you are.

If you’re here, you likely already understand: we don’t do this world because it’s easy. 

We do it because it’s special.

Traditions Honored. Entertaining Refined. Moments Celebrated.