It's another beautiful day and, like most weekends, there seems to be lots to do that precludes the luxury of simple indolence. It's so easy to think "Gaah! Too much to do! I just want to sit down and relax!"
Yet I just realized that, for all the things filling the weekend, it is pretty relaxing. None of the chores are crowding on top of one another in a sanity-threatening way. The kids are pottering around down on the patio fixing up planters and hanging baskets to tart up the outside. I am pottering around getting food ready for a barbecue. The sun promises a blissful afternoon on the deck in the shade of the parasol, with a beer or three.
And I suddenly realized how darned lucky I am to have this time of relative tranquility. Some people spend their "free" hours holding down second and third jobs to make ends meet. Some struggle simply for basic survival.
So there's food to prepare, dishes to clean, laundry to throw in the washer. Maybe I'm not spending three hours at a stretch writing or sketching. So bloody what? I have nothing to grumble about.