The routine of a full workweek (9.5 hours/day) with something to do almost every day after work, followed by housework on weekends is quite tiresome as doesn't leave much time for fun or relaxation.
A couple of weekes ago, Tom who learns in a boarding school, announced us he cannot bear the food at the boarding school any longer. Since then, my weekend routine contains more cooking and boxing a week worth of meals and cakes. Of course the cake vanishes minutes after his arrival there on Sunday.
This weekend I managed to finish all the cooking and baking on Friday, so Saturday morning my husband dragged me to the beach. As I've already mentioned, I'm not much of a beach person, but I must admit this time wasn't half bad. We walked along the water line and then I sat in the sun and read a paper. Fishermen, people strolling and jogging, dogs, even 3 horses, cafes, quiet music, jellyfish bodies in the sand. Free parking!
In the book I'm reading, (Night Train to Lisbon by Pascal Mercier), I found an interesting definition of love, something I'm always loking for: Love = passion + enjoyment + security. Since all three are temporary feelings that can't survive real life, loyalty, a decision rather than feeling is more important. I'm not sure I agree with the author's conclusion, but he definitely offers a good definition.
Tom says my food is the best among all of his friends' at the dorm. Don't all the kids say the same to their moms?
I have to finish my week by folding 3-4 machine loads of washing.
Thank God for small mercies.