Something in a Sunday that makes a body feel alone

I'm sitting on my back porch, drinking coffee, catching up on blogs and emails (wireless is wonderful!), and listening to the birds chirp and some neighborhood dogs bark. I was just about to type how the girls were in their rooms playing, Karyn is sleeping late and how I feel alone, when Mattie come out and asks me to put a bead back on one of her necklaces. With children you are never alone for very long :)

Anyway, I wasn't really feeling lonely, I was enjoying the calm of a Sunday morning. To me Sunday mornings always have felt different. There is a certain melancholy that goes with them. Not sure if it is the whole end of the weekend thing, the preacher's kid church thing, or what. But it is there and I actually enjoy it for some strange reason.

I've decided to start attributing the lyrics that I use for my titles to the singer/song that I know them from, so here goes:

Johnny Cash/Sunday Morning Coming Down