When life and death meant that we’d have more time at home at weekends, I had great ideas. We’d be at markets, beaches, stately homes. We’d investigate every festival, fun event, literary tour in town. We’d go visiting. Photographs would be framed and hung. The house would be styled and tidy. We’d be creative with glue and glitter. We’d bake.
This weekend the girls danced while I drank coffee and bought vegetables. Unusually, Spurs Fan was in bed with whatever had been affecting us all. By Saturday lunchtime we were all home, up and about.
Loads of time! Hurrah! What will we do now? We had a night out planned for Saturday, so maybe we’d take it easy, save the excitement for Sunday.
For the rest of the weekend we: slept, lazed on new sofas, ironed, made soup, read the papers, sniffled, coughed, vacuumed, lit the fire, slept another bit. Some pictures were rehung. Boring meals were made. Children played with friends, and maybe even each other. The taking it easy expanded to fill all available space.
Welcome little ones, to the concept of nothing exciting. A dull day or two, for recharging, reinvigorating, and a whole new appreciation of the busy days.