Very Slow Sunday

It's been that way today, taking time to experience just what happens in the moment.  Here is one example: the blue Morning Glory flowers that only appear for a short time on the wild vines growing around the oleanders in our backyard.  One vine covers the dead branches of an oleander killed (mostly) by Texas Root Rot; the other covers a second struggling oleander.  Both appear to be not only surviving the fungus but showing signs of renewal.  I don't know if the vines have a symbiotic relationship with the oleanders or not, but the deep green leaves, dotted (in August/September) with blue flowers, give me a morning gift.  Last year, when the frost came, the vines crumpled into brown dust and I thought "well, that's that."  But they came back again this spring.  I am hoping for a third year's visit, should they again crumble in December.  In addition to taking time to admire the Morning Glory, I sat on the front porch for two hours with Gray, reading, talking to neighbors and with a long-distance friend by phone.  Then, more reading (and writing) inside, and here it is almost 11 a.m. and I have yet to make the bed!!  Oh, well, that's the joy of a very slow Sunday.