Somebody told me that Sundays are the new Saturdays. I don’t remember who it was but it doesn’t seem uncommon for folks to speak in these marketing-style platitudes that really make no sense. However, the last few weekends have proved this one true. Has anyone else found that the traditional weekend and the expectation of a two-day-long period of rest should in fact be reduced to one afternoon or evening? Saturdays are invariably taken up by errands (house-cleaning, gardening, dog-washing, clothes-washing, drying, ironing, mopping, moving, shopping, installing, recovering etc. etc.) so that the real leisure (the extravagantly rare commodity of well and truly free time) is portioned off to a few hours of the Sunday.
We took our bikes to Centennial Park and Shaun came along with a Sherrin to kick around. The trailer transportation of Rufus and Yoko began well until Yoko managed to slip out of her collar, jumped out and got stuck between the trailer and bike. Then Rufus, the conniving little dimwit, decided to jump ship just as Adrian slowed down for a chat and found out about the advantages of staying inside the crate the hard way. Rufus was chastised but terrified Yoko travelled the rest of the way in my jacket. I managed to ride all the way back after these two minor heart seizures and after a large serving of remaining picnic scraps managed to only get hit once in the face by the football.
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