Weekend Domestic Tally

Thursday night to Saturday are my version of the weekend. For me, this means squeezing out every last chance to be the domestic diva.

The tally so far this weekend?

Did a lot of dishes, but then made a whole lot dirty while I was making a pot of soup.

Cut out the fabric for Zora’s long-delayed Hello Kitty pajamas.

Dyed the eyelet trim for said pajamas hot pink (turns out that hot pink eyelet trim is not a standard part of the stock at fabric stores).

Ran two miles.

Crammed in one last church meeting before Friday, being the real and actual day off, began.

On tap for tomorrow?

Take Zora to kindermusik and swimming lessons.

More laundry than I should ever have to deal with.

Sew kitty pajamas.

Do dishes from soup-making.

Get bedroom under control.

Which brings me to the point that Friday is, in fact, my Sabbath. Honestly, I’ve just gotten to the point where I’ve accepted that Sabbath for women has probably never meant complete and total rest. If I snag 15 minutes of Sabbath, that’s going to have to do it for me.

I remember, during Zora’s first summer, realizing that beach reading would not be the same for another 10 or 15 years. Instead of cruising through novels, I was happy to get in a few pages of a short story.

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