Spoiler alert: I don’t have big plans. I’m writing this before I perform my Saturday morning ritual of taking our daughter to swim practice, then pushing a cart up and down the aisles at our Kroger supermarket to do the grocery shopping for the week. My biggest plan this weekend is to finish reading my book (Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo) before the library takes it back. It’s due Monday and I have about 175 pages left. I can totally do that. The hammock is ready for me.
I’m not sure what else is on the docket. We have entered the time of year where, though the garden is a riotous mess, I won’t cut anything back. The fat monarch caterpillars — I counted 24 on the seven milkweed plants they stripped completely bare — have all crawled off to make chrysalises. This is the culmination of all of my butterfly gardening work. I can’t cut back the spent perennials that really look ratty this time of year: there may be caterpillars turning into butterflies in there.
I love having weekends with no plans. Especially since swim season has started up again, and swim season means swim meets. I’ll be at one from Friday to Sunday next weekend. So this weekend has to be a weekend of chill. The chiller it is, the longer it feels. I’ll read. I’ll write. I’ll walk around the garden looking for chrysalises. Maybe I’ll bake something. I’m sure a bunch of stuff will come up that will make the weekend fly by, but for now, I’m just grateful for the time to read my novel.