I love the weekends. Every Saturday morning I get up and let my dogs out to potty and stand on the back porch that my sweet husband built with his own hands and look at my back yard which extends about an acre or so back. A field lies beyond our yard so I'm not looking at someone else's life. I see birds and bunnies, wasps and bees. Our little pool which has been so much fun this summer. I have never been so grateful to be just able to live my life. Our little dogs (a Cocker Pug, a Cocker Jack Russell who looks like a hot dog, and a Boxer) bounce around to say good morning (one of them is just a sleepy little runt and stretches and yawns and looks like she couldn't care less that I want her to make some business). I feed our two cats, one geriatric and the other most definitely gay. I always laugh when my daughter has put a night shirt on him that has rhinestones on it. He loves to wear night clothes to sleep for some odd reason. I pull his night shirt off and give him a good scratch on his belly as he flops over on his back.
My husband is always up before me and waits for me to get up each weekend morning to make breakfast. He's been making weekend breakfast for 21 years for us (when he's in town) Sometimes pancakes or French toast. Today, bacon, sausage links, eggs, biscuits and gravy. He always pours milk in glasses and sets them in the freezer so they are extra cold for our meal. He's a morning person and usually only gets a sleepy smile from me until I've been up about an hour. We don't usually talk in the mornings. We just "be".
Our son comes in from his morning walk and declares he's not eating this crap as he makes his way to the shower. After awhile he is in the kitchen making a plate of biscuits and gravy while his dad teases that he'll have to walk ten miles to get that off.
I comment that it's awfully quiet without our daughter here who is pulling a shift at her job. She'll excitedly come in around noon with some treasure she found on clearance while she was working and proudly show everyone in the house what kind of steal she got.
Soon we all start talking about our week and what we want to do for the weekend... Chores get divided and done so we can get on with the business of doing something fun. Next weekend we're planning to go to the International festival so we'll probably skip breakfast and just get ready to go to town.I've been taking my favorite former foster child there every year for the past five years. We'll sample lots of cuisine from other countries and talk about getting a Henna tattoo which none of ever end up getting. I love the predictability of my life. So sweet and so simple.
Hope all of you are enjoying your weekend traditions.