The weekend has come and gone and I have to tell you, it was a DOOZY.

Wanna know why?  Because it wasn’t much of anything.

Allow me to explain.  I had my Saturday planned to the minute with so much to do, as always.  It would be a “First this! Then this!  and Wait, there’s more!  And now THIS!” kind of day.  The “Let’s Do ALL the Things!” starter to the weekend.

 

But then, I found out a friend was sick.  And the baby needed watching. And my boys wanted to play water games.  And make cookies.  At the same time.  And so, I did this:

 

And I took a breath, said goodbye to my clean floor, and set up this:

 

And subsequently got all wet while this:

And  we were then covered with mud and water, so then of course we added this:

 

And then we wanted more dirt so we also did a bit of this:

And contended with this:

But mostly, I did not do much of anything with this:

 

And for dinner, we ate a bit of this and that: 

 

And that, my friends, was my non-doozy weekend. And it was awesome.  I didn’t get a darn thing done.  And I got everything done.  All at the same time.  (Trust me – it sounds weird, but if you think about it, and maybe even allow for it, it’s a doozy.)

I highly recommend it.

Oh, and one other non-do that I, uh, did:

I searched for a poem that I had read long, long ago in the English Journal – it echoed perfectly how this weekend worked itself out for me by its non-working non-conformity. I couldn’t find it.  However, I did find the following little gem, and the hour “wasted” by looking?

It was wonderful. The sounds of the words were…   Sounderful.

But those of you who love a good poem like I do, know that for best results, a good poem should be administered at least once a day.  Take twice a day for added benefits.  (However, if you just sit around reading poetry all day, you are warned.  It is possible to overdose.  Then it’s just you and Poe and a lot of black turtlenecks and melancholy sighing.  Nobody wants that.)

 

 

 Happiness

By Raymond Carver