After many days of go-go-go, this weekend was a chance for me to catch my breath. I drove home to Hinsdale on Friday morning for a few meetings, planning to go back to the city the next day. But Saturday morning turned into Saturday evening and I just couldn’t pull myself away.
It’s Sunday now, and I’m sitting in the family room with my dad, mom and aunt. (The sisters had a slumber party last night — aren’t they cute?) In a few minutes, I’ll have to head downtown for showings and an open house. For now, I want to soak up every last bit of the weekend.
On Saturday, I strategized with my parents. The result: homemade Funfetti cookies and handwritten Thanksgiving notes. If you happen to receive one of these gift bags, the cookie bottoms will be slightly burnt. Melanie Stone Chicago is sincerely sorry.
We all watched The Notebook last night for the millionth time. Noah tries to sell his renovated mansion with an asking price of $45,000 — welcome to real estate circa the 1940s.
Somehow, all four of us were awake by 7:30 this morning. We sipped coffee, had a little breakfast and talked about granola, about the New Covenant, about Christmas dinner. I typically begin each day alone in my apartment, so it was a treat to start my Sunday surrounded by family.