It’s been a low-key weekend here at the Yellow House. On Saturday we ventured out briefly to get some essentials that we were running low on. We stayed close to home and supported the local shops as we only needed those few bits and pieces. We also sent off an item of post, which I will tell you more about once we receive the reply – I do like to create some intrigue! ;-)
The rest of the day was spent pottering about the house, doing those tasks that we don’t have time for during the week. As is usual on Saturday afternoons, I kept one eye – or ear – trained on the football (soccer) scores even as we were completing our other chores. My team is Swindon Town and I have been a supporter for what will be 30 years come August. During that time success has been a little thin on the ground – although the period between 1986 and 1994 was a golden age for Town fans and saw the team rise to the heady heights of the Premiership. Their stay in English football’s top flight was, naturally enough, short-lived and things have returned to the norm with the team now plying their trade in the third tier of the game. They are currently fighting to retain their position at that level and avoid relegation to the bottom division. The end of the season is just a couple of weeks away, so it is nail-biting time right now! On Saturday a last minute equalizer earned the team a draw, and one more point towards survival in their current division. Fingers will remain crossed though for another two weeks until that survival is, hopefully, assured.
As Saturday evening TV seems to have taken yet another dive lately - and I really didn’t think THAT was possible - we decided to watch a DVD instead. Have any of you seen “1408”? If so, could you let me know what it was all about?! It was very interesting in parts, and as always with Stephen King’s horror stories, it was also a little off-the-wall. We enjoyed it well enough, but I have to say the ending left me with way more questions than answers!
Sunday was a lovely sunny spring day. It was a very relaxing and restful day and we just enjoyed hanging out with nothing much that we felt we had to do. I do love a quiet Sunday, which is ironic because as a kid it was the quietness of Sundays that I hated. Nothing ever happened on a Sunday, except for maybe being dragged off to visit various far-flung relatives. Of course, looking back, those days spent at my Grandmothers’ houses in particular are actually some of my most treasured childhood memories. Eating salmon sandwiches and drinking tea from bone china teacups whilst watching Black Beauty on TV is perhaps how I best remember the time I got to spend with my paternal Grandmother. If only you could put an old head on young shoulders and truly treasure those times as they occur, rather than just in retrospect. :-) Now, as an adult, I do cherish the slowness of a Sunday, when I get to spend the whole day with my beautiful wife, Dori, and we can enjoy each others company without the pressures of the working week imposing. Bliss!