This morning I woke up feeling pretty good. After three weeks of sickness ripping through our family (and around for a second time on poor Beth), I blew my nose and it was clear, brushed my teeth without gagging and held young Beth who had finally returned to her smiling, playful self. Plus it was the weekend.
I recent read (and can’t find, much to my dismay, the original post to link – sorry author) a blog post about people who don’t like the weekend. Who fear free and unstructured time. These people need to embrace the Idlers’ philosophy and learn to relax. I love the weekend. It’s probably because most of the things I love occur the weekend.
So as a counter-post to my “Things I hate” blog here are the things I love about the weekend. The fact that “It’s not a fucking work day” should rate a mention, but it doesn’t. I’ve twice taken a month off at once and I can tell you – I would never need to ‘work’ to fill my days. As soon as I win the lotto – I’m gone. So: stuff I love about the weekend.
Tea. Pot or just a tea bag – I’m always ready for a cuppa. Nothing beats checking out the news Saturday morning while drinking several steaming hot cups of tea.
Being a Dad. Sure, there’s the fucking kids to deal with but the rest of it is great.
Day sex. Who doesn’t like day sex? Parental ‘experts’ often talk about how too much TV cooks your kids’ brains but let me tell you – without TV day sex would be nigh on impossible. The sounds of 64 Zoo Lane and Poko are music to my ears. Beth goes down for her morning sleep, Jas is transfixed by The WotWots and it’s – as the Conchords say – business time. The quick glance, tilt the head towards the bedroom, the innocently worded request (I once tried to be as crude as possible with the wife and said “How about I take a peek at you with the blind eye” but she responded “A peek is right. It’s never the long hard look you promise”. You know, some guys wouldn’t like their wife to be smarter and quicker than they are but I wouldn’t have it any other way) and the innocent wonder from the living room. Bliss. ABC3 – thank you.
Eggs. Bacon and eggs are my traditional Saturday morning breakfast. I love it. Omelette and cheese work for me too but my most recent love is soft-boiled eggs. With the company of buttered soldiers, a little salt and the obligatory cup of tea. Now with our new chickens (thanks, @JohnannaBD and @MyGreenPatch) pumping out four eggs a day – we have to think of new ways to eat eggs all the time. Soft boiled eggs make happy kids and a happy Dad.
Reading. I like two kinds of books. Serious non-fiction – philosophy, science, ethics, religion, evolutionary biology – and stupid fiction. The stupider the better. Well, not Matthew Reilly stupid (but, yes, I’ve read them all like a person unable to look away from a car accident) but stupid. John Birmingham stupid. I must say, if you haven’t read Without Warning, you haven’t had a good Sunday afternoon mindless read. Get it. Enjoy the ride. (Except don’t read the blurb on the back of the second book in the series After America before finishing it – Hey John! Thanks for giving away some plot points in the first paragraph of the blurb – good thinking d******d).
The occasional afternoon kip. It’s still possible with kids. You have to be lucky and the kids all be having an unusual afternoon nap themselves but when it happens. FTW, better than day sex.
Playing the ukulele. Bruce Lee once said “I didn’t practice a thousand kicks once, I practiced one kick a thousand times”. That is my excuse for still only really knowing five or six songs after a year of owning a uke. It’s the hour or two of slow weekend practice sitting on a daybed in the sun that simply makes a weekend.
The Amy Ponds show. It’s the only good show on TV.
Doing fuck all. That’s the best bit. The unstructured flow of a weekend is simply a gift. Slow time is good time.
Is weekend. Is don.