sleeping in

There is little that makes me happier than waking up in my island of a bed with sunlight streaming through the windows and being able to turn over and cuddle my way back to sleep. Unless it's the same scenario sans bright sunshine with the patter of raindrops as a background lullaby. Sleeping in has to be one of the world's greatest pleasures. It used to be something looked forward to each and every Saturday as I was growing up. No school or church service to get ready for. No pressing need to get started with my day. Eventually, weekends were no longer sacred. Work - and life - butted in. Even "free" days had to begin early in order to cram in the ubiquitous to do list. But whenever I happened to be blessed with such a morning, it was cherished and savored to the extent of it's worth. I had wondered, when faced with months of time to do only exactly as I pleased, if that feeling of satisfaction would be diminished. The answer: not one little bit.