Saturday

This. This sitting by the windows of the soul of this house.  Glad that I had the bohemian idea of switching the living room and dining room furniture around.  It’s a bit unorthodox but it suits me perfectly this fine Saturday morning. 

Hot tea in hand and a couple of double chocolate cookies, reading a fascinating and well written novel. Good writing always carries me away, especially with the sunshine periodically streaming in the window.  After days and days of rain, the suns reflections on the main floor of the house are a welcoming intrusion.  Each time the rays break through, I look up from my reading and just bask. Bask in the silence. Bask in the simplicity. Bask in the comfort and joy of this moment.  My yearnings of travel silenced for a moment by the perfection of this healing moment. 

Still in my nightgown with a comfy sweater thrown over top and the knowledge that my bed is still unmade upstairs (which typically disturbs my OCD), I float in giddy delight.  Did I  mention it’s Saturday?  I just want to luxuriate in the stillness and the peace of this morning before I take on the day. I am compelled to read and read until I turn the last page and yet…..this is not a book that I want to end so I’ll probably use self control and just read enough to fill me for this day.  Blessed that nothing or no one else is making demands on my time. Its finally my own.

Saturdays can mean all kinds of things to all kinds of people. My husband took the mutt to the dog park. That’s a Saturday thing to do.   I was contemplating going as I do need to understand the dynamics of dogs at play but…. I cannot pull myself from this sacred spot. Many Saturdays are about shopping  for the weekly necessities.  Other Saturday’s are about cleaning the garage or the house. I’ve spent Saturday’s planting the garden and doing yard work. For many, Saturday’s are about a long bike ride. A hike. A road trip. A trip to the garden centre. Breakfast on a patio somewhere.  

But for me, today, it’s about getting lost in a good book and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist. For this one scant moment of time.  And now it’s 3:30 in the afternoon and I am still molded to the cushions of this chair with this gift of a book in my hands and its pouring rain once again. To add to the feast for the literary senses, is the rhythm of the rain on the patio roof.   I make no apologies. I love you Saturday.