It’s the title of this post, but I’ll the first to admit that I do NOT like to live for the weekend. I don’t want to sound hopelessly optimistic, simplistic, or precious, but I’d rather live for the moment; have each moment as full with the beautiful things and awful things and odd/pretty/funny/quiet etc. things as possible. I just want things to be as they ARE (except when I don’t, which is fairly often.)
Yet, there are what I’ve come to think of as seasons of my life when I’m rushing towards the weekend. I mean, how can the work week compare to time with friends, family, free learning opportunities, fun-to-be-had? Some seasons are about fairness and balance, and some are all about the weekends.
Learning to knit mittens that fit with my friend Lucy, owner of Mind’s Eye Yarns.