I've often wondered what makes a really perfect day, or THE perfect day? For me, I don't think there is just one kind of perfect day. I think they just happen in whatever way they appear, and we feel them as they're happening.
For me, recently, nothing incredible happened, and yet, it felt like a perfect Saturday. We woke up late because I was feeling a little under the weather, and he had worked a grave shift. We decided to aimlessly wander IKEA for some new dishes because our set is all mismatched and broken, and is from my college days. We ended up cruising through the store as quickly as possible on a busy Saturday, and both knew exactly what we wanted. The white dishes that were $20, 2 hot dogs, and some candy bars, oh, and cinnamon rolls because I always get cinnamon rolls. Carb-fiend here, in the flesh.
I was high-fiving us the whole time for spending very little money, and not getting lost in there all day.
Then we went home, decided to take advantage of the winter clouds opening up for the first time in ages, and went for a walk in the freezing sunshine.
We decided to stop on the grass at the park and lay there, head to head, looking up at the crystal clear, blue sky. White fluffy clouds floated overhead, while all around our valley loomed the light-grey blanket of thick snow clouds. It was as if someone had cut a hole in the clouds with a cookie cutter just over the top of our city.
We lay there, not talking much, soaking up the warmth from the southern floating sun, and reminding ourselves that spring isn't too far on the horizon.
We decided to stop on the grass at the park and lay there, head to head, looking up at the crystal clear, blue sky. White fluffy clouds floated overhead, while all around our valley loomed the light-grey blanket of thick snow clouds. It was as if someone had cut a hole in the clouds with a cookie cutter just over the top of our city.
We lay there, not talking much, soaking up the warmth from the southern floating sun, and reminding ourselves that spring isn't too far on the horizon.
Side note: Here in northern Utah, from December to March there's a brown haze in the air, making visibility low, and the air smells like exhaust. Sometimes you can even taste it. Those beautiful mountains of ours mixed with freezing temperatures, trap in all the bad stuff. Whenever a large storm moves in, for a couple days after it, the air is so clear you can practically see all the way to Nevada.
Then, we went home. He took a nap since he had to work another grave shift, I worked on my blog, and nothing spectacular happened.
I guess you could say my idea of a perfect day consists of him, me and the sunshine. (Oh, and not getting lost in IKEA.)
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