Saturday is sunshine. Saturday is a chance to sleep as long as I like, which was 8:37 today. Saturday is toast and orange juice. Saturday is taking a train and then a bus to my favorite market. It's looking at all the vintage bits and pieces, it's wandering slowly from stall to stall. It's bargaining with stall holders and laughing and walking away. It's finding a set of lovely plates and a vanilla milkshake and an amazing glass jug hand painted with three ducks.
It's spending the last of my cash and then walking down the hill to iron cove. Bay. It's walking through the park and along the shore.
Saturday is seeing a willy wagtail and walkers and sunlight on sea green sea. It's boats and tall trees and people's homes and an old, old hospital.
Saturday is realizing we're not THAT far from home and making a new plan that takes us to Haberfield, where we've never been. Saturday is gorgeous houses and smart lawns and then strange shaped houses and schools named after Joan of Arc. It's finding a sweet cafe off the beaten track with perfect food. Saturday is Simona surprising me by shouting me lunch. It's walking the rest of the way home and calculating our walk at 7km. It's watching tv and suddenly being inspired to change the furniture.
Saturday is dishes and satisfaction and snack food for dinner.