But unfortunately, the bathtubs in our house are small, and since I'm pushing six feet tall, it's just not going to happen. It's something I'll save for Christmas Eve at my parents' house, but I digress.
I try to keep this blog mainly photos, but some of these prompts for Picture the Holidays deserve some narration. When Jon and I worked at our old job, we were shiftworkers. Overnights, weekends, holidays, evenings, et cetera. Two or three days off together per month, max. Such is the life of a meteorologist (or two).
It was always a little dream of ours to move on to jobs which gave us more time to spend together. We used to talk about eating breakfast together during the week and reading the paper on Sundays. (I know, seriously, we got old fast. That's what happens when you get married, I suppose.)
So after we moved to Virginia and we both started working from home, that little tiny dream of ours was realized. I usually roll out of bed around 7 on Sundays. I wrap myself in my fuzzy throw blanket, slip on Jon's work shoes sitting by the door, and waddle outside in my pajamas to retrieve the Post from our driveway. When Jon wakes up, we settle down on the couch and grab our favorite sections: the front page, business, and metro for him; travel, arts, and the comics for me (I guess I'm not that old... :).
So all of that was really my way of saying that reading the paper with my husband and a cup of tea on a Sunday morning is my way of recharging for the upcoming week.
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