sunday splurge

When I was a kid, Sunday afternoons were ruled by ritual: go to church, eat dinner, lolly-gag as much as possible to avoid eating broccoli, take a nap, and then, enjoy 3 o'clock ice cream. There was something magical about the 3 o'clock hour. I was given license to grab a spoon and fill my bowl with the sweet and creamy flavor of the week, chocolate chips, and fudge sauce.

We splurged on Sundays.

Today, my splurge took the shape of berries and creamy vanilla. It was lick-the-spatula good.

My frozen blueberry stash from last summer is quickly dwindling. I kick myself for not buying a whole trunk load in August, back when ten pounds of fresh, plump berries were a dreamy seventeen dollars.


A few Sundays ago, our splurge was ringside tickets for the Spartan Stampede. My grandpa instilled in me a love of rodeo, and this annual MSU event was one of his favorites.

 I had such a great time hanging out with some of my relatives and watching the rodeo. We ran into a few of grandpa's rodeo buddies and reminisced. One of grandpa's old friends, Jim, passed away recently as well. We stood and clapped as Jim's wife, Les, accepted the Legacy Award on Jim's behalf.

I can just imagine grandpa and Jim sitting side-by-side on a fence and smiling down on us, enjoying the show. Or, who knows, maybe they're busy organizing their own rodeo with chutes of gold and lariats that always swing true.


What's your Sunday splurge?