Finally, a Saturday morning when we can stay home together.

After a stunning hot sunny week, the weekend opens up cool and wet. There are persistent silent flashes of light, followed by lengthy deep growls from above the brown clouds. A steady rain starts to fall, hitting the pavement and drowning out any emerging city sounds. It seems to have silenced the natural world until the baby sparrows nested in our eaves cry out for food.

The first couple of sleepy hours are spent on the bed in silent conversation, surrounded by cozy blankets not needed in the night but suddenly are necessary as a breeze picks up momentum and blows in to say hello. The dim but warm glow of daylight filters through the window onto our bodies. Heavenly.

Then our tummies start to grumble. However, breakfast must be served with the weekend Globe and Mail! So while My Love sits to meditate, I suit up in something waterproof and eagerly head out the door to the corner store. I’m grinning as I brace for the wind that blows down the main street. I like weather that announces its presence! With the paper under my arm, I enter our building, shaking the droplets off my coat. Inside, wet clothes are replaced by softer layers and I set to work in the kitchen. Water in the kettle for my tea and the stove top espresso gadget for Karl. 8 minutes left before his bell sounds him into movement. Simple pleasures.

So, the world continues to evolve.

I raise an eyebrow as Karl snickers at the section he is reading. We prefer to save paper and throw out less by reading online but occasionally we indulge in handling the larger format. At the table this morning he is tickled to show me an article that reveals formatting errors. Without explaining, he waits to see if I can figure out how the story flows. A puzzle! Each column continues two columns over, and it seems one has no start at all! But we get the general sense of the story. Putting publishing issues aside, the article by Jane Taber is about politicians’ work styles on parliament hill. A sub line reads “Tony Clement turfs his desk”. He is quoted as saying “I don’t find a desk helpful. It gets in the way, creatively and with interpersonal dynamics,” I love this! Somehow the thought of no desk makes my heart sing. I have a desk at home to support my desktop with wireless keyboard and mouse but it is otherwise empty. I have a diminishing need for stacks of paper although, there still is an ‘in’ and ‘out’ box neatly tucked away in an armoire. The desk is large and open, waiting for Karl to come home and set up his laptop if he needs. Otherwise, I don’t have a desk anywhere else in my self-employed life. As I think about it, my assignments and appointments are carried out in coffee house chairs, standing at the front of a lecture hall or on the move down a corridor or street! It’s no wonder I prefer digital documents and portable gadgets! I smile when I think about how movement-oriented my work can be. Many different locations, many different colleagues and clients. This makes me smile again.

I pour another cup of tea and turn back to this morning’s program of relaxation.