Saturday morning.
A time for languishing in bed, getting up at whatever time you want, beginning your day on your own terms. . . .
Unless you live in this house.
Yesterday, while waiting for the annual switching of the tires, winter to all season, Stephen was reading through the Daily Gleaner, Fredericton's excuse for a newspaper.
However, this time there was actually an item of interest.
Every spring, the City of Fredericton sells composters.
HUGE composters for a very, very reasonable price: $35.00.
When we first started purchasing them, they were $25.00, but that was a few years ago and prices do increase as time moves forward.
And this year, they're selling "kitchen catchers" little bucket like, lidded containers in which to place your household compost until you're able to get it outside.
Lids are good.
I love compost. But it stinks. And attracts fruit flies. So lids are very, very good.
Of course, the sale of these goods is on the Northside of the city, and from here that isn't exactly next door.
And of course Stephen wants a kitchen catcher.
As do I.
My former mother-in-law has the exact same kind the city is selling.
Very, very helpful little do-dads.
Stephen wants one.
I want two.
The sale starts at 7.30.
A.M.
Therefore, as logic would dictate, Stephen would be in no way able or willing to get out of bed early enough to ensure he was able to purchase said kitchen catcher.
Meaning this morning, at 7.30 am I was driving across the Westmoreland Street Bridge.
Alone.
Not even a drop or dribble of coffee coursing through my veins.
Languid Saturday mornings?
Apparently not for me.
Another seven pounds has said adios.
Honestly, I was a bit disappointed.
It had been about a month since I had been able to get to Simply for Life for my weekly weigh ins.
Exams scheduled for 9.00 am Monday morning, Easter Mondays, the beginning of Intersession, and something else I can't remember, prevented me from being able to make my weekly Monday morning appointment.
Hence, for the month of May, I've switched to Friday mornings.
And had my first Friday appointment yesterday.
I was thinking that at least ten pounds would have been shed.
But seven is good.
I'm not denying that.
However, for an entire month?
I thought ten would be doable.
There were some challenges: Easter, Dad's birthday, etc. lead to situations that may have resulted in me eating something or other I perhaps shouldn't have.
So I am happy with seven pounds.
But not as thrilled as I had hoped to be.
Bringing the grand total to so close to 70 pounds that I can see the fine hairs on it's cheek.
And I know that's an accomplishment.
My summer clothes, all from last summer, are too big.
The bits and pieces I've been picking up are not yet able to cover my still ample bottom.
Don't get me wrong.
I'm not running around naked.
I haven't had to go there, yet.
A shopping trip for some inexpensive shorts may be in order.
I just don't want to buy something that I know won't fit in a couple of months.
Just seems like wasting money to me.
But baring my ample backside to the general public?
Probably something I should avoid.
This morning is the first in two weeks that I haven't had to go to work.
A euphoric feeling indeed.
I may not have been able to lay in bed, but, I do not have to go to work.
I can work at home.
Go for a walk.
Do some yoga.
Hang laundry on the line.
Sometimes, it is the simple things.
Kitchen composters.
Hanging laundry to dry in the sunshine.
Listening to my ipod while strolling through the streets of Southwood Park.
Enjoying the day for what it is.
And not what you think it should be.
Title Lyric: Come Saturday Morning by The Sandpipers
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