Snoopy, a great little dog to get us ready for the weekend.
So, here we are on another Friday, a day I like to preface with "Margaritaville," since many of us will gather somewhere together at 5 o'clock to toast the weekend. And we Americans are so fortunate to generally work on a five day a week schedule which allows us two days each week to unwind, rest and relax and recharge our spiritual batteries for the following week to come. Sadly, there are those around the world who have no weekend because they have to spend most of their waking hours just trying to find a way to gather enough food to survive. We are truly blessed in "The Land of the Free" and as a nation and through religious and other service groups much money is spent to try to help others less fortunate.
I have always loved the feeling on Saturday morning when the normally hurried pace can be slowed significantly. Maybe it's to enjoy a full breakfast instead of the fast break out the door during the week or at least a leisurely second cup of coffee. Just knowing that the rush is temporarily relieved is a tonic for the body, appreciating time for a little less hectic pace. But then we get ready to do whatever it is we want to do. For some, it's a long walk on a beautiful day, attending a sporting event or, for the younger set, serving as the taxi service for the kids and all the activities that Saturday morning will bring. I myself remember those days of rushing between places for daughter and son and talking with other parents as we watched the children develop good motor skills and teamwork in sporting events. Come afternoon and it might be a family movie, a special late lunch celebrating a victory or soothing a sad little boy in defeat, but it always brightened the mood and required us to just sit and renew our family relationships with the added time we had. By the time Saturday evening came around, all were tired and ready for sleep, particularly before the kids were teenagers. That is a different experience where no sleep was really possible until all were safely back home.
Sunday morning brought a light breakfast before Sunday school and church. Since I was a Sunday school teacher (I still am), the children couldn't complain about their being asked to attend as I was there, just never teaching my own. And as I remember from my own youth, once it was the routine, it was appreciated and those words of the wonderful stories became indelibly etched in little brains to come back when comfort was needed throughout life. Then after church, it was either back home for a great Sunday dinner or on occasion a trip to a nice restaurant in our Sunday best. There was one wonderful steakhouse that was created out of a former boarding house and as a special treat, they offered home made banana pudding for dessert. And on the way home in my day, it brought a stop at a local confectioner where they held the Sunday New York Times for dad and he added a quart of hand packed ice cream for later. Yummy.
In the afternoon, playtime commenced with the kids gathering either over at the school yard or in the large vacant lot beside our home. Seasonal games were played and all had a good time, returning home for a sandwich and perhaps soup at the end of the day. It was then that a temporary form of agony was mentally reached as we all realized that with the sunset on Sunday it could mean only one thing: Monday was almost here. But we got over it quickly and by ten in the morning the groove was back. Parents were working or doing whatever they did during the week and the kids were studying hard to prepare for a future of promise.
Relaxation and rest, fun and games, laughter and joy and then came faith, hope and love and the perfect combination to be ready for the new week was achieved. That's what the weekend provides and I've followed that pattern my whole life through, albeit with a few faltering footsteps along the way. It works to keep us on an even keel and it balances us in a way that affords us a great way to face whatever tasks we must as a new work week unfolds. In the meantime, have a joyous weekend, everyone. Let it cure what ever you are ailing from after a hard work week.
I have always loved the feeling on Saturday morning when the normally hurried pace can be slowed significantly. Maybe it's to enjoy a full breakfast instead of the fast break out the door during the week or at least a leisurely second cup of coffee. Just knowing that the rush is temporarily relieved is a tonic for the body, appreciating time for a little less hectic pace. But then we get ready to do whatever it is we want to do. For some, it's a long walk on a beautiful day, attending a sporting event or, for the younger set, serving as the taxi service for the kids and all the activities that Saturday morning will bring. I myself remember those days of rushing between places for daughter and son and talking with other parents as we watched the children develop good motor skills and teamwork in sporting events. Come afternoon and it might be a family movie, a special late lunch celebrating a victory or soothing a sad little boy in defeat, but it always brightened the mood and required us to just sit and renew our family relationships with the added time we had. By the time Saturday evening came around, all were tired and ready for sleep, particularly before the kids were teenagers. That is a different experience where no sleep was really possible until all were safely back home.
Sunday morning brought a light breakfast before Sunday school and church. Since I was a Sunday school teacher (I still am), the children couldn't complain about their being asked to attend as I was there, just never teaching my own. And as I remember from my own youth, once it was the routine, it was appreciated and those words of the wonderful stories became indelibly etched in little brains to come back when comfort was needed throughout life. Then after church, it was either back home for a great Sunday dinner or on occasion a trip to a nice restaurant in our Sunday best. There was one wonderful steakhouse that was created out of a former boarding house and as a special treat, they offered home made banana pudding for dessert. And on the way home in my day, it brought a stop at a local confectioner where they held the Sunday New York Times for dad and he added a quart of hand packed ice cream for later. Yummy.
In the afternoon, playtime commenced with the kids gathering either over at the school yard or in the large vacant lot beside our home. Seasonal games were played and all had a good time, returning home for a sandwich and perhaps soup at the end of the day. It was then that a temporary form of agony was mentally reached as we all realized that with the sunset on Sunday it could mean only one thing: Monday was almost here. But we got over it quickly and by ten in the morning the groove was back. Parents were working or doing whatever they did during the week and the kids were studying hard to prepare for a future of promise.
Relaxation and rest, fun and games, laughter and joy and then came faith, hope and love and the perfect combination to be ready for the new week was achieved. That's what the weekend provides and I've followed that pattern my whole life through, albeit with a few faltering footsteps along the way. It works to keep us on an even keel and it balances us in a way that affords us a great way to face whatever tasks we must as a new work week unfolds. In the meantime, have a joyous weekend, everyone. Let it cure what ever you are ailing from after a hard work week.
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