So the aforementioned walk. It’s a gorgeous sunny Saturday. And one of the things that crosses my mind is that it feels like a Saturday and that I wished that I had got up earlier in the day. I wanted to do some tidying before going to do some writing. I wanted to do something. But what.
I begin to think back on my childhood. Saturdays to me was always a day that felt like it was made for adventure. Friday night I always seemed to stay at my Nan’s so Saturday morning I would be up. Watch cartoons and Going Live whilst eating an Animal bar and having a hot chocolate (I never drank Tea until much later in life) before going out to play with my friends. Later in life Saturday meant meeting up with my mate Nick and might involve a shopping trip to the city or washing his car. Even as an adult Saturdays were spent hanging out with friends, weather off doing something or just relaxing. Ut that’s my Saturday and more than once over the years I’ve wondered how others spend their Saturdays. I use to see strangers in their gardens or through the window into their houses and I’d get a brief flash of imagining what their life was like. Weather I was ever right I’d never know. I also remember a girl I worked with and thinking how does she and her husband spend their Saturday. What do they get up and do.
You see I have this notion in my head of what a Saturday should be like. I think it’s getting up and putting the TV on. Maybe the music channels to listen to whilst having a morning cuppa and maybe doing bits around the house. Perhaps it’s relaxing with a book on the sofa. Or just sat watching movies on TV and preparing lunch. What is this idyllic lifestyle I’m dreaming of? AS I walk I see people out cutting their grass. Ah now there’s a memory. A strong one, a favourite one from my childhood, my dad cutting the grass, the sound of the mower, over head the sound of a propeller plane or helicopter. The smell of the cut grass in the heat of summer. The smell of petrol. The feel of heat on my skin and the feeling of happiness and carefree. It is a moment I think of whenever I hear the sound of propellers faintly in the sky or the sound of a mower or the smell of cut grass.
Saturday to me is for relaxing after a week of work but also doing something. Work on the car or pottering in the garden. Going out shopping somewhere or maybe cutting the grass and having a BBQ. Maybe it’s out playing football. I just know that with so few Saturdays in our life they should be lived to the full and enjoyed.
But what about Sundays. Sundays are also part of the weekend but somehow they feel different. True all those things I’ve mentioned above could be done on a Sunday. Indeed I plan on cutting my grass tomorrow. But for me Sunday has always got Monday looming over it. It’s back to work the next day. No staying up late. Sunday is a day for relaxing. Not doing anything. Maybe a pint or two in the local. That’s what my childhood always thinks of. Going down he local football club on a Sunday morning. My Mum would be working behind the bar and my dad drinking on the other side. We would have a bottle of coke. Proper glass bottles and hopefully get on the pool table. In fact even when I and my brother stayed at my nans in the holidays this is what happened with my Gramp. Him drinking at the pub whilst we eat crisps and drink coke.
Then followed by a Sunday roast. Actually our Sunday roast was always on a Monday due to my mum working. But yeah for most people, even myself now it’s a roast for Sunday. When I live with one of my girlfriend years ago Sundays followed this pattern. She would cook a Sunday Roast then we would relax in front of the TV.
So that’s Sunday, relaxing ready for a week of work ahead and not really doing anything. It’s funny how to days, both on the weekend can feel different. To have some kind of idea in my head of what those days should be like.
It’s now half seven on a Saturday evening and I haven’t tidied nothing up as planned. But I’ve done some washing. I have washing up in the sink. I’ve done some work on my novel and written a few blog posts. I’ve been for a nice long walk and had a pint with friends. Maybe this Saturday hasn’t been too bad overall and there is always tomorrow morning before the Sunday roast.