My Weekend

After reading "the Life in the Day" and "my weekend" features in the papers I thought I'd write about my ideal weekend. Its ok I don't expect you to read it.

I love waking up naturally in Saturday....and then rolling over and catching a few more zzzzs. When I wake up again, Steve is dozing and if this was a film there would be a shot of the breeze causing the curtain to flutter through an open window, or a steam train entering a tunnel...Then Steve staggers downstairs to make me a cup of Earl Grey and I read The Telegraph. I love having the papers delivered at the weekend, one of the many benefits of having your own front door. After a reviving cuppa I make breakfast - which is surprisingly healthy- fruit, muesli and yoghurt. We have breakfast in bed, it is lovely to mooch about after the hectic mornings during the week. Finally dressed I take Tommy for a walk over the beach while Steve gets ready. Ideally they wouldn't be any kites as they make Tommy nervous. Then when I get back we drive into Southend. I go to the library to stock up on some books and then we whizz round Sainsburys buying fruit and veg for the following week. If we're flush we'd to to TK Maxx and buy something nice that we don't need. The rest of the afternoon I'd spend gardening.When we first got the garden I assumed Mr Robbo would be interested, as my Dad loves gardening but it soon became apparent Mr Robbo had no interest and I was surprised to find out I quite enjoyed it. The garden isn't as good as it could be - not many plants can stand up to dog wee. Last week we went to a garden show and I asked a seller if he could recommend dog proof flowers and he suggested plastic!
Ideally Saturday evening we would go round my sister's or the Murphys for a takeaway and setting the world to rights. Chinese is we round Angela's , Indian if we're visiting the Murphys. Tim is brilliant at giving us the latest conspiracy theory- the Robbos love a good conspiracy. We don't get to see Tim and Sharon that much as we would like as Tim tends to work weekends.

Sunday morning involves more of the same - Sunday Times, breakfast in bed and more curtain fluttering (ugh curtain fluttering sounds really rude , as in I'd like to flutter your curtains..)Steve takes Tom for a walk and I potter about. If there is a Grand Prix Steve will watch that with his Dad and I'd go round my Mum's or Ruthie's for lunch and a chat. We tend to watch film on Sunday and not do very much at all. In fact there may be quite a bit of fluttering..