Then on Sunday, for Father's day, my husband decided he wanted nothing more than to have everyone around, enjoying a slow aimless day, and so that's what we did, the six of us who slept here, plus my daughter and her guy. My son joined us later after his shift at the firehouse. My husband rose before the rest of the household and made us four kinds of scones—vanilla raisin, tangerine, cheddar and jalapeños, and shallots and parmesan—and oh my God they were delicious! We all kept going back to them all day. He also made us passion fruit bellinis with a raspberry garnish, which were also yummy. He did all these things for us on his day. Though he would not cooperate with our attempts to pamper him or my attempts to take pictures, still, he was the center of all the love, "Uncle Dad," as my niece (below) called him. We ate and drank and did puzzles and chatted and watched World Cup Women's Soccer and dozed and it was perfect. I love my family. And I don't take this state of grace for granted.
Here's a picture of me taken in the rooftop bar with the good light. A picture of myself that I actually don't mind. And below it, a good message for this day (given my previous post). All our guests left last night, and my husband and niece are at work, so the house is quiet with just me today. I just might stay in my indoor blue kaftan all day.