It was Saturday morning. I was really,
really tired. I had worked 8 hours at Shopko, skipped supper, headed to the office to clean another four hours, drove home, showered, grabbed a slice of cold pizza at 1 a.m., and finally fell asleep. The kind of sleep where you can not get up, no matter how much you need to. I had forgotten to put my fresh, homemade, strawberry jam in the freezer, I hadn't packed for my trip. I had to go to work, again, and I wasn't sure if I had completed my online homework assignments for the week.
But it
was Saturday morning. I didn't have to drive my sister to work. I had talked my co-worker into letting me come in at 1 p.m. instead of 10 a.m. The sun was shining. And I had a big bowl of fresh-picked strawberries.
My sister mixed up some pancake batter while I packed my suitcase. I whipped some
real cream, and sliced some berries. We added some patio furniture, the clear blue sky, ice water and lemon, and a bouquet of flowers. And for 30 minutes, we enjoyed a beautiful slice of heaven.
