The true about Saturday morning….

I awoke this morning to dog noses and snowflakes. Before the blurry dreams were wiped from my eyes, I could see what this snow was made of. It was the larger than life fluffy stuff from the movie “A Christmas Carol”.  I was gently encouraged by my friendly beasts to move a little quicker. I laced up my boots (a sure sign that she is getting ready to take us out) threw on my shawl, grabbed my cane and out we went. The peace of snowfall is unlike anything else. The gentleness of the air as you breathe in and awaken to the end of your week puts one into a mind set of contemplation of the recent days and the Saturday mornings of yesterday. As I viewed the vista before me, the flakes were beginning to change to a more dense and compact version of its previous self-still beautiful but heavier with more substance. A lot like the person I have become.  

I brought the wet nose dogs back into the house and made my coffee. I need the quiet reflection of this morning.

 I remembered what Saturday morning was like as a child; a day to eat sugar cereal and watch cartoons, giving my mother the opportunity to sleep in a bit. We would wake her and ask if we could walk to the little store and buy 1 box of cereal for breakfast. She would always direct us to her change purse and off we would go giving her a little more of the blessed sleep that is always lacking in a Mother’s life. Cereal was not a regular occurrence in our home, but Saturday mornings we could get away with it.  When I became a Mother myself, I had the cereal ready and would sleep on the couch in the living room as my daughters watched the Saturday line up.

The work week is brutal and Saturday morning is my salvation. The work week world (WWW) demands from us, (you and me) on many levels and in return leaves depletion. I need this time to sit quietly, reflect on what has been done, what I can fix, what I can’t and what I won’t.

This is soul time.

 

 I do not give this time up easily. I will fight it tooth and nail and do what I can to plan things for the afternoon.

I have been known to share this time with others.

My dog friends are the perfect Saturday morning companions. They follow me around my homestead protecting me as I take them to my most sacred places and share my heart. They keep my secrets and stay by my side. I have 2 full grown collies and 1 sheltie. I knew as a child that these were the dogs of my heart. 1 of the collies is a recent adoption. He was the companion of a long time friend who passed very tragically. He was a witness to the happening and I feel his pain and grief. He is on our small country ridge to heal and is already deeply close to my heart. Dogs really are the perfect friend. They always know the truthful deed when you cry; they lick your tears and let you hug them with no judgment. How fortunate am I to have them in my life.

 

Beck on the left,

 Rufus in the middle ( he is the leader)

 and Bodhi on the right