Happy Saturday Morning.
I'm going to come back in my next life as Mama Cass and write a song about Saturday Mornings. Except it wouldn't be relevent to those among us who have to work on Saturday Mornings, or those who are mothers of young'uns.
For me Saturday Mornings mean being able to lay in bed after wakening and listen to the birds, and exploring my head. And I can do that for as long as I like.
I don't have to get dressed until I want to.
Saturday Mornings are all about me. My choices, my desires, my feelings, me, me, me and more me.
Today is predicted to be gloriously warm and sunny day. What can I do with that? I've got a few more plants to put in the ground. Or not. I can work on a table. Or not. I can sit by the beach. I can go for a hike. I can blog. Or not. I can work on OSHA. NOT!!!! What ever I want to do. It's all here, and I can choose, because this is the day I own my time.
As V's customer sagely pointed out, "no weekends, no Mondays". It's a state of mind. The days you own your time are 'weekends'. The day you sell your time is 'Monday'. It's not a specific named day of the week. My happy day happens to be a Saturday morning that I don't have to leave my home.
Catching up -
I've finished the Welding module for OSHA. Can't even begin to describe how much fun that was. Next, Electrical safety and hazards. Wow.
My duck was again waiting on the side of the road yesterday morning, and I swear he is waiting for the bus. He just sits there watching the cars roll by, not moving one feather. Same place.
Nikko did a funny thing. I had left the sliding door to my bedroom open, and sat out on the deck with Paul. Nikko went in the sliding door, but came to the living room and barked to be let out, because that is where we were sitting. Paul reached over and opened the door for her, she came out and sat with us for awhile then went in the open bedroom door. Then came to the living room door and barked to be again let out. Paul & I looked at each other. "what a dummy" we told each other with our eyes. Paul reached over and opened the door for her. Again she spent some time sitting with us, and again did the full circle through the open door to the closed door.
Sometimes I think I do the same thing in my life...metaphorically speaking. That could be a John Denver song.
Alright you guys. Am putting the badmiton net back up. Hoping for some competition.
Watch that birdie, and Peace for now.
3 comments:
that duck is going to lose his face...
I'm loving this duck story!
Maybe you could adopt him and he and Niko could just go crazy together.
Wait, then you'd start copying them and then Paul would and Rocko's already a little off.....yeesh.
Love the metaphor, and tend to do the same thing...especially before I got into therapy. I used to run into my mother everywhere...euuu, actually that satan nurse was her too. But, this time I had support so she couldn't possibly win.
I fear for the little duck. He must not have read up on OSHA safety precautions around duck crossings. Poor babe. There muct be a thousand page manual in some piece of crap plastic binder for him somewhere...he had better sign off on it quick or it may be lights out.
Did I ever tell you I had to get forklift certified? Still have the plastic card that is good for another year. The boy's club thought it funny to have me move a palate with 1 million dollars of products on it. In retrospect I wish I had dumped the load and plowed into a few of the good ole boys busy fixing their crotches. Gee Elf, it sounds like I am back?
Love & Miss you Paige
Post a Comment