Here is why I love the weekend:
Ok, yes, that. But also, this:
I love, love, love The Week. It’s the news, reviews and opinions of the past seven days pulled from newspapers around the world. I read it in little pieces over Saturday and Sunday, ensconced in billowy duvet or wedged into the sofa with a hot drink, and savour every bit of it. I feel terribly, satisfyingly well-informed once I’ve finished. Because it represents the world to me, a world of politics and event and arty endeavour. It reminds me that more things exist than just the small circle of things that matter to me.
Recently I have felt a tugging to be more outward-facing. Like Kathleen Kelly, I lead a small life (also like Kathleen Kelly, I own a very large number of button-up cardigans. If she were real, I think we’d be friends). Mothering is the most absorbing and satisfying and wonderful thing that I’ve ever done, and is worth my time and soul-filled effort. But in my recent experience a life that revolves around three people, one of whom can’t yet hold a conversation, has a tendency to become self-involved.
No one without a full-time job has any business being self-involved. I know my attention will be split many more ways as our family gets bigger (gosh. Baby sick AND a toddler. Baby sick and multiple children. How do you do that?!). So here’s the Personal Creed of Usefulness I want to hang on to.
– I will be aware of and have an opinion about current events in my country.
– I will keep abreast of world events.
– I will pray every day for opportunities to do something for somebody else.
– I will read good poetry, listen to good music, appreciate good art.
– I will remember that, living here and now and in comparison to many others, I am very, very fortunate.
– I will teach my children to be excited about these things (even the poetry? oh yes please, please the poetry as well).
And if Mr Jeffcoat is very nice to me:
– I will always have The Week to get excited about on Fridays. I will write them a letter. I will try not to sound like a stalker.
I said ‘try’.