There is just something about the sound of Johnny Cash drawling out the words to 'Sunday Morning Coming Down' that sets my toe to tapping and my voice to singing. I know it's not a hymn, and it's more of a hangover song, but on Sunday mornings, I can't help but think of the song, and wish I had the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken.
Currently, I have the smell of an over full kitchen garbage.
It is exactly the wrong smell for this spring Sunday morning coming down.
I guess the rest of my day is going to be spent doing a bit of Sunday morning cleaning.....and that is soul satisfying for me.