Friday

 

Friday, being the last day of the work/school week is looked forward to by many of us. It’s a night to meet up with friends for a drink or dinner, pizza and a movie with family, or just a chance to kick off your shoes, put your feet up and try to forget about those work week woes. It's an evening to plan out the weekend, maybe stay up a little later than normal and just decompress a bit.  I’ve always worked toward Friday because it promises something better and a relief from workaday tasks, and a break from an annoying coworker or overbearing boss. It’s the light at the end of the tunnel.

               When I was growing up Friday night was the night my parents were more relaxed, every other week my Aunt Doris took the train from the city to come and stay with us for the weekend, and we got to stay up a little bit later.  Homework could be put off for a day or two so right after school we could play outside or go to a friend’s house for a few hours before dinner.  When I was in middle school, there might be a Friday night dance to go to, or movies with friends. In high school, there might be a game to go to, or band practice for the big game on Saturday afternoon. Many times in school Friday afternoon was when a teacher might show a film or have us playing a game in class.  I think the teachers looked forward to an afternoon that was a little different, a little easier on everyone.  It always seemed a little mean when a teacher scheduled a test or quiz for after lunch on the last day of the week.  Even when I worked weekends I looked forward to the last day of the week because the next two days were still different, they had a different feel to them and I had different coworkers and the customers were much happier.  It was especially true when working the overnight shift because much of the clientele were stopping in on the way home from bars or parties.  I don’t miss working weekends, but it was fun time of life and I have many fond memories of that time period.  My last job was still fun, but it was strictly Monday to Friday during the day since it was in a school.  I had really good coworkers and we were a good team. It seemed unfair when at work a boss had everyone doing extra tasks right up until it was time to clock out, or we had visit from the “higher ups” on a Friday.  We gave our all every single day and then -wham!- here’s some extra things to do before you leave today, or some extra stress to deal with.  I don’t miss that about work while I’m sidelined by the pandemic!  Now I look forward to Fridays because my husband will be home with us all day for 2 days and Hillary and I will be a less lonely; because, as I think I have said before, it is lonely staying home and away from other people.  Virtual visits just don’t cut it for us, we need to see people in the flesh and I know we are not the only ones.  So Friday is a day we look forward to for sure!

So here it is Friday afternoon and I am anticipating a nice weekend spent it the company of my husband and my daughters.  Already I feel that Friday vibe, I hope you do too.  

Hope Is The Thing

 

It’s been a year since everything locked down due to the pandemic. How funny it seems now that we thought it was going to be a two week lockdown to control the spread of COVID 19, after which we would go back to life as we knew it.  It’s been a rough, soul sucking 12 months, and it isn’t over yet. Yes, things are starting to reopen; some too fast, some seemingly not fast enough. Recently my husband and I went to dinner at a restaurant, a year almost to the day since the last time we did so before the big shut down.  It was quite a treat, but also strange.  Servers in masks, and patrons unmasked only long enough to eat with lots of space in between tables felt odd.  Since we are all vaccinated in our house, we felt that it was a minimal risk to spend time on a Saturday afternoon lingering over a meal we didn’t have to prepare nor clean up.  It was our first step toward a return to something close to life as we knew it.  As we wait for things to “normalize” we can take small steps such as a dinner out and ease back into being less isolated from others; it gives me hope.

Spring is on the way after a cold, snowy winter which had us hibernating here.  The tall snow piles are nearly gone, and much of our yard is mushy but free of snow.  The tops of the trees, closest to the sun are starting to look a bit reddish which tells me that the stronger March sun is coaxing forth buds in spite of the cold temperatures.  I look forward to the buds bursting and leaves unfolding to color the landscape with varying shades of green.  Soon crocus, daffodils, and tulips will sprout and bloom and forsythia will splash sunny yellow around the yards in my neighborhood for a few weeks before turning green.  We’ve already seen our first robin, but I have yet to hear the geese honking as they stop by our lake on their migration trip north—any day now they will appear.  It is another hopeful sign when the seasons begin to change that life goes on as it always does, turning page after page until the story of the year is complete.  The details of what happens vary year to year, but the framework remains in place—seasons come and go in a certain unchanging order we can rely on.  The moon waxes and wanes, the sun rises and sets, plants grow and die or lay dormant and it all begins again in its own time. Nature is reliable that way, thus there is always life and therefore, hope.

Things will get better, we will be able to enjoy the company of others, and feel as if we are living our “normal” lives.  There is comfort in that.

This is what hangs above my kitchen sink.