Doesn’t just the mention of a Jammie Day make you smile or give you the warm fuzzies (as in flannel)?  Everyone loves ’em!  Or so I thought, until my hiking partner, Ron, revealed the very idea of spending most of the day in pyjamas was distasteful to him.  Maybe it’s a girl thing…?

Most GIRLS (!!) then, love to be able to just take the day off from the usual chaos & responsibility.  Just sometimes.  A fitful, long sleep followed by an entire day to cocoon yourself in your home without the need to rush out somewhere early, and the freedom to concentrate on whatever your fancy all day long.  Guilt free.  You can watch a movie or read a book.  Do your toenails.  Earn a Nobel Prize.  Or do absolutely nothing at all.

My best version occurs in winter.  Definitely winter, and on a weekend.  Perhaps waking up during the night knowing there are many more hours of slumber ahead with no urgency to go anywhere.  Feeling the mattress shake with the appearance of my dog’s happy furry face over the side, a reminder that she will most likely expire if not fed immediately.  Then her heavy dog sighs of resignation to wait ‘just a little bit longer’ as she flops back down onto her Princess and the Pea bed next to mine.  Being lulled back to sleep by the purring of the cat cuddled up in the crook of my arm. Eventually I will excise myself from the warm covers, immediately aware of my home’s meat locker-like temperature necessary for an optimal sleeping environment.  Shivering, I locate the little socks lost overnight in the linens during a hot flash and put them back on before my feet turn blue.

Next I don my raggedy housecoat that is spattered with old paint overtop of my ridiculously ugly 2-piece flannel pyjamas given to me by someone who apparently thought I was a size 26.  I’m too cheap to replace them – no one will ever see them on me after all.  I do not comb my hair.  Sometimes I don’t even splash my face with water.  It doesn’t occur to me to look in the mirror.

The animals race – and occasionally trip – me down the stairs in frenzied excitement eager to show me where their food bowls are in case I forgot.   I can hear them gobbling their kibbles while I stumble up the stairs (damned housecoat is too long) to the kitchen.  I peruse an Oprah magazine, a Safeway flyer or an old Globe & Mail (recycled to me from my friend Jackie who, unlike me, is up on current events) while my giant vat of coffee perks.  I wait patiently for a cup to be ready, confident I will drink the entire carafe.  The animals, now sated, are sprawled in repose in sites that prove most inconvenient for me.  The cat favours the cupboard corner where a heat vent blows since I turned up the thermostat.  The dog prefers the middle of the kitchen floor, vigilant for dropped crumbs or stray cheese.  I step over them repeatedly in the course of making a delicious eggie breakfast.   I dawdle and savour all of this.  I have the whole glorious day ahead of me.

I always seem to end up at my keyboard in my cluttered yet quaint little office, surrounded by lists, papers and photographs.  Kaley, the dog, will check on me intermittently by pushing her nose under my elbow to remind me that that she is adorable, and indicating that NOW would definitely be a good time for a walk. Failing that, she gets my attention by giving a doggie ‘wooooo’ or happy growl accompanied by the thumping of her tail on the hardwood.  She is rewarded with tummy rubs and compliments.  The cat, not to be ignored, will appear several times during the day making herself known by helpfully walking across my keyboard with her bum and tail in my face, batting pens off my desk or sinking contentedly into my lap which makes typing difficult if not impossible.  Although she will enjoy the pettings, she will eventually leave in a huff for other more stationary and satisfactory beds.

The hours will breeze by while I correspond, research, and graze until darkness creeps in and the remindings by The Gurlz become more insistent.   I will finally dress in normal clothes to brave the outside world on my end of the leash.  But I am stronger, for my respite is complete and my day well spent.  Onward!