heathens.

It’s Sunday, and señor and I did none of the following:

Get up early
Put on pretty clothes
Drive to a large building
Sing semi-familiar songs with a congregation of people, or
Listen to a smart man talk about a really cool Book

“Church, smurch” is what we said this morning. Which, according to Evangelical belief, makes us Bedside Baptist heathens. We slept in ’til 9am (we live on the wild side), made some delicious cinnamon rolls, read, and señor transformed into my own personal barista!

It was like Starbucks and Cinnabon collided in our apartment.

The result was a delicious, sweet vanilla latte that made me feel like I had settled into my favorite coffee shop and would be there for hours. That “coffee shop” just happened to be my couch which I’ve made my home practically all day.

{You can take the girl away from camp, but you can’t take the tie-dye away from the girl who loves camp}

Like I said, we did some reading also. While señor spent at least 2 hours reading up on sleeping bags online (He’s determined he’ll convince me to go winter camping. Keep trying, bud), I finally finished reading Cold Tangerines. Thank you, Liz, for letting me borrow your copy. Although I couldn’t mark it up like I love doing to books, I devoured its words and message with great delight. Now go get a copy, readers.

We did nothing conventional to the way both of us were raised and taught how Sundays should operate, but I did learn an important lesson today:

Saturday night church results in lazy, refreshing Sundays.