Patience is being tested daily. The work we have to do on the house is so huge it’s inevitably overwhelming. And so comes the importance of the Saturday morning.
My Saturday morning goes something like this.
I wake up at my usual weekday time, and on immediately remembering it’s Saturday, I roll over and fall back into a delicious half-slumber.
I may turn around to peek out under my sarong/makeshift curtain to cast my eye over our garden, looking for any new birds visiting our recently erected bird box.
I’ll pad downstairs, the cold air pinching at any warm exposed skin. Standing on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor waiting for the kettle to boil. The creeping chill starting to come through my bedsocks.
I’ll take my steaming mug of tea back to bed for another delicious 20 minutes.
Then I’ll turn our bathroom heater on and as the machine kicks into life I’ll run a hot bath. Steaming like a Turkish sauna, our run down bathroom transforms into the hottest room in the house. I slip beneath those steamy waters and let the heat thaw me through, relaxing me and waking me at the same time. I can spend some minutes here, contemplating my day or weekend ahead. Here work disappears, the week has gone. I’m staring at the “exposed brick” on the wall opposite. I see the old tile glue and its strange snail trail patterns on the wall. One day this bathroom will be our guest bedroom. One day…
Getting out of the bath and getting dressed is fun. Leaping into the path of the blowing hot air from the heater, carefully selecting a towel from our cupboard to quickly dry without losing heat, dashing out of the bathroom to select clothes for the day, trousers and tops stacked in boxes in our front room, jumpers and scarves handing over my clothes rail in our bedroom. It’s a short time before I’m cosy again.
Then the ritual of tidying our bedroom, which, over the past week will have slowly moved from relatively tidy to bombsite. Such is the challenge of living in a half unpacked house on the edge of upheaval. But I like this ritual. Carefully folding washing that has been in heaps all week and putting back into its allocated box. Hanging my work dresses and jumpers. Lining up our shoes. Shaking out the duvet, folding our blankets, creating order from chaos in this small haven of our house that is our bedroom.
Once I’ve had my Saturday morning, my couple hours of ritual and restoration, I am ready to tackle the day.