Saturday
I think most of us love Saturdays. The work week is over and most of us have two whole days to relax (somewhat) and not have the stress and strain that come with Monday through Friday.
Of course I love Friday nights too. It means that the weekend is here. But there is something wonderfully special about Saturday.
Saturday I can sleep in late. (In my case that means past 5...and staying in bed till 7 is wonderfully decadent.) And when I get up there is no rush. I still want to get that morning exercise/walk in, but I can take my time. If I don't do it right away, it's all right.
But what I really look forward to all week long is Saturday morning breakfast. It's nothing really special. My husband makes coffee (just like he does just about every day) and sometimes "makes" biscuits (if you call taking them out of the "can" and putting them in the oven making them). I usually have a newspaper (just like I do in the weekdays). But it is different than a week day.
It's relaxing...I can sip my coffee and read my paper with no pressure. I don't have to rush out the door. I don't have to rush my son out the door. We can all sit down together with no time constraints. Or my husband and I can have our coffee and read our newspapers while our son still sleeps. And he can make his way downstairs when he wants. I can put on the satellite radio and listen to smooth jazz. I can sit at the table and sip my coffee for as long as I want.
Of course I have things to do on Saturdays. There is laundry. There is my volunteer work (The Thrift Shop at the First Presbyterian Church at 10 Fairview Avenue in Verona, NJ...the best place to get bargains). But there is a different feel, a different rhythm to Saturdays. It is one that I long for on weekday mornings when my eye is constantly on the clock and I counting how many minutes I have left.
Saturdays are mean family. Saturdays mean relief from the rest of the week. Saturdays are mine.
No matter what the day may bring, I love my Saturday.
Of course I love Friday nights too. It means that the weekend is here. But there is something wonderfully special about Saturday.
Saturday I can sleep in late. (In my case that means past 5...and staying in bed till 7 is wonderfully decadent.) And when I get up there is no rush. I still want to get that morning exercise/walk in, but I can take my time. If I don't do it right away, it's all right.
But what I really look forward to all week long is Saturday morning breakfast. It's nothing really special. My husband makes coffee (just like he does just about every day) and sometimes "makes" biscuits (if you call taking them out of the "can" and putting them in the oven making them). I usually have a newspaper (just like I do in the weekdays). But it is different than a week day.
It's relaxing...I can sip my coffee and read my paper with no pressure. I don't have to rush out the door. I don't have to rush my son out the door. We can all sit down together with no time constraints. Or my husband and I can have our coffee and read our newspapers while our son still sleeps. And he can make his way downstairs when he wants. I can put on the satellite radio and listen to smooth jazz. I can sit at the table and sip my coffee for as long as I want.
Of course I have things to do on Saturdays. There is laundry. There is my volunteer work (The Thrift Shop at the First Presbyterian Church at 10 Fairview Avenue in Verona, NJ...the best place to get bargains). But there is a different feel, a different rhythm to Saturdays. It is one that I long for on weekday mornings when my eye is constantly on the clock and I counting how many minutes I have left.
Saturdays are mean family. Saturdays mean relief from the rest of the week. Saturdays are mine.
No matter what the day may bring, I love my Saturday.
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