Sunday at 6 o'clock.

Every Sunday for the past 10 years we meet at Mom's and Dad's house for dinner. There have been maybe ten times during these years, when the dinner has been cancelled. It is the pillar of our home, comfort, love and tradition, something you can count on. Even if we have a fight, snap at each other, the children behave badly, we know inside, that next week- we shall be there again, probably making up, probably hugging, probably making jokes and laughing.

Today we had huge meatballs in tomato sauce, rice with vegetables, tomato-cucumber salad and saulted raw salmon with white bread. We drank self-made apple juice. I made cinnamon rolls for dessert.
We had a little fight about Christmas presents (should everybody make presents to everyvbody or should we draw lots). Jaan spitted at his uncle Jaan, my brother, and was punished. Mirt refused to eat and sit in her high chair. We found out that my brother's girlfriend's self made jewelry business is doing extremely well and their work was presented in a national newspaper. I was happy about my lens. My husband talked about our family moving to another city. We laughed at the last political scandal. My Mom and Dad listened. And smiled.

At 6 o'clock.
I am lucky that I have my Sunday at 6 o'clock.