Wouldn’t it be nice?

Dear friends,

Wouldn’t it be nice to spend a quiet Sunday at home?

The kind of Sunday that starts with a run (because you’re determined to stay on track)?

The kind that is spent mostly in the kitchen, cooking up a roast beef with mushroom gravy and a potato cake with tart apple and Jarlsberg cheese, both of which make you thank your lucky stars for leftovers?

The kind where you write sappy sentiments on Valentines cards and wrap gifts and then tell your teenagers to open them today, because who needs to wait until Tuesday?

The kind where your favorite guy says Wow when he sees the dinner table and Oh My God when he eats your lemon-coconut cake, then eats another piece immediately?

The kind where you and your peeps — after stuffing yourselves silly — gather ’round the television to watch the Grammys so that your children rave about some group you’ve never heard of and you rave about the Beach Boys and remind the youngsters that Brian Wilson is a musical genius you listened to on vinyl?

Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray . . . it might come true.

With gratitude {for Sundays at home that remind me life is even better than a love song},

Joan, who went to bed Sunday night with a mile-wide smile on her face but was too exhausted to blog about her Valentine’s supper until another day