I had that beautiful pastelito refugiado (that I picked up yesterday at Porto’s , she said proudly).
With a hot cup of coffee.
In front of that delicious crackling fire.
And I sat. And didn’t speak.
And just decadently read my book.
And when the kids woke up they joined me.
With their books.
And there we sat. In silence.
The three of us with our pasteles and books.
Just reading and being and enjoying the fire.
With no agenda.
My Visiting Lovelies are in San Francisco and I had some designs to finish, so I opted out of the No Cal part of the trip. And gave myself permission to do nothing until about noon.
And my brain was incredibly grateful that I gave it the morning off.
And now that I’ve come down from that crazy, restless high of frenzied sightseeing madness ("and-on-your-left-is-the-famous-Hollywood-sign") I’m almost a nice person.
One more pastelito should do it. 😉