One of the nice perqs about life without children is lazy Sundays. We usually do most (if not all) of the housework & grocery shopping, etc., on Saturdays, so that Sundays we'll be free to do whatever we please. Dh & I sleep in until around 8 (for us, that's sleeping in...!), & then laze on the couch with the Sunday New York Times and watch the Sunday morning talk shows on TV. Depending on who's on, we'll watch either CBS Sunday Morning or Meet the Press (I still miss Tim Russert), sandwich in a little This Week with George Stephanopoulos, and wind up with Bill Moyers' Journal on our local PBS station (I think most PBS stations show it on Friday nights, though).
After our shows are over, we'll usually head out for awhile. If we decide to go to a movie, we'll have popcorn for lunch. If not, we'll probably go to the mall foodcourt, or to Tim Hortons for something to eat. A stop at the cemetery to visit Katie (brief in the winter; in the summer, we will hang around for awhile & maybe take a walk around), and maybe the local megabookstore. And then home, where we laze around some more -- in front of the TV, with a book, or on the computer (like I'm doing right now). After a busy week at work (and the last few weeks have been particularly busy), it's a relief to be able to be lazy.
Sundays can also be a little melancholy. There's an air of finality, of sadness -- weekend's over, fun is done, time to go back to work tomorrow.
Today's CBS Sunday Morning had a segment on Phoebe Snow, whose song "Poetry Man" was a huge hit when I was a teenager. Around the same time, Snow found herself unexpectedly pregnant. Medical negligence left her daughter, Valerie Rose, deaf, blind and brain injured at birth, and not expected to live very long. Snow was encouraged not to take her home, to put her daughter in an institution. She said, "There was no way she wasn't coming home with me." Her daughter lived to be 31. If you go to Snow's website, the home page is devoted to Valerie.
The segment ended with Snow singing the last line of a song that went something like: "Thinking about my baby girl..." & just like that, tears sprang to my eyes & started rolling down my cheeks, & I had to fumble for a Kleenex.