Getting ready to do a fat lotta nothin this weekend, which is not how it will turn out. I know I’m having a fledgling writers’ group here on Sunday to get them kick-started. It will be fun to help them gain some momentum. That means — gulp — clean up the living room and bake something.
The Boy was ill all week but no one else here is ill, so he must not have been too contagious. Health-wise, I’m gonna try to make it to yoga tomorrow. I may get a financial report out of the way if I’m in the mood, although I tend to procrastinate on those items. Also planning to streamline a couple of bills by combining with Mr. Husband’s accounts. That will save some bucks. I offered to take Daughter #3 to Berkeley for some shopping so that may or may not happen. She may not *want* to go shopping in Berkeley with me. (Why not? I’m cool…aren’t I?)
My usual weekend chores include laundry, which, when it is sunny, enables me to hang clothes on the line. But it is supposed to rain this weekend, so it will be more energy-costly and not as aesthetically or physically pleasant. I really enjoy hanging out the wash — and taking it off the line when it is dry and sweet with sunshine and scent from the Bay breeze. I even like that “cat’s tongue” feel of the sun-dried towels. My pal Katy (The Nonconsumer Advocate) calls them “spa-style.” So much more elegant than “sandpaper rough.”
Also probably some baking of bread or snax of some sort, ironing, and some cleanup. Believe it or not, these “chores” are how I relax and have fun, after a week of chasing news stories and following elections and hauling kids and dying of exhaustion and burnout. I doubt there will be any gardening because of the weather. Besides, I put down a nice layer of mulch last weekend — using gorgeous (free) autumn leaves. They’ll melt into the soil over winter and keep the weeds down and the roots warm as well. Mulch — it does a garden good.
Um. Not much else. Maybe some sleeping and eating. No juice fasts this weekend. Not good for my blood sugar. But a good snuggle with Mr. Husband and the cats and all will be well. Saturdays. Gotta love ’em.