There is something about a Saturday morning that unleashes the inner puppy. Or dangles multi-colored string in front of your inner kitten, if that’s your jam. On that note, if you have inner jam, I’m sooo jelly!
There is something life affirming, positively squirming about the start of the weekend. Restless wonder giddies the neighborhood. The sun seems brighter and worries lighter, as one can waft away, into the clouds, loud and proud. Being oneself, forgotten on a shelf Monday through Friday. You may have expected another rhyme but that’s the neat thing about the weekend. It’s full of surprises.
In fact, I wasn’t intending to write anything here, the proverbial pen stuck in the back of my brain worked its way down to my fingers and onto the keyboard.
What shall I read? Fix? Contemplate? Create? Watch? What will nature show me for the first time? Or more likely, what will I see in that patch of flowers that alluded my foggy mind for so long. My wife will still have to point it out to me, but still . . .
May every day be a weekend. It’s your imagination, your magic, you can do whatever you want with it. : )