The End of the Workweek

Istiqlál (Independence), 3 ‘Alá’ (Loftiness), 173 BE - Friday, March 3, 2017 CE about 2:34 PM Pacifice Standard Time 

It's Friday! It's the end of the traditional workweek. I'm not sure what traditional and workweek have in common because as long as I can remember my mother worked weekends. The meant that her  "Monday" usually fell on either Friday or Saturday . She would work either five or six days (depending on whether or not the place she worked at was union) and get one or two days off. I can remember Mom working Saturday through Wednesday or Thursday and getting either Thursday and Friday or just Friday off. 

Mom usually worked the graveyard shift which started at either 10:00 or 11:00 PM and ended at either 7:00 or 8:00 AM.  When we lived in Blackwell she had Grandpa and Grandma to take care of us, but we usually walked to school. We grew up in a time when parents didn't worry about the dangers of children walking to school. Of course, there were other dangers to children besides strangers kidnapping them; however, I'm not going to go into that subject right now. 

As I was writing, before I got distracted with childhood memories, it's the end of the traditional workweek. That phase doesn't mean any more to me today than it did when I was a child. In fact, it very well could mean less. I've achieved a lot in the first three days of March and I will achieve a lot more by simply ignoring the traditional workweek theory. I have a great deal to do this weekend and I intend to do it. Some of the things I procrastinated in February while others I just started working on this week. 

I started some port housekeeping yesterday. I'm reorganizing my writing.com port so that I can have a bit more room. I started the reorganization, but then I became sidetract with writing. I wrote two poems and submitted them to contests. I've decided that the best thing to do is set aside an hour or so for housekeeping before getting sidetracked with something else. That should let me get organized by the end of March. 

Monday Mumblings: A good beginning to the workweek

Kamál (Perfection), 6 Bahá (Splendor), 169 BE – Monday, March 26, 2012 about Sunset Pacific Time

This morning and early this afternoon, I had a bit of difficulty with my computer. I had to restart it several times and start two of the programs in the safe mode. However, things seem to be going well with my computer now.

This morning, I went to Smith’s Food and Drug store on the corner of Sahara and Maryland Parkway to pick up a prescription. After that, I went to pick up our Senior Food Allotment. I put the cheese and milk in the refrigerator.  The milk is in the shelf stable packaging; however, since we are going to drink some for breakfast tomorrow I wanted it to get cold.

There is also a package of spaghetti and I have four jars of spaghetti sauce in the cupboard. When I bought the sauce, it was on special and I had a coupon. Since I have so much pasta sauce, we will have spaghetti at least once this week. I will fix the spaghetti, without meat because we have canned chicken and I prefer beef with my spaghetti. Three of the pasta sauces are meat sauces, so that will satisfy my desire for meat with my spaghetti. If I change my mind or add something to the spaghetti, I will post the recipe.

At the end of the workweek

Istiqlál (Independence), 14 Kamál (Perfection), 166 BE – Friday, August 14, 2009 about 7:37 AM Pacific Time

Friday and the traditional end of a workweek, I remember my Grandfather coming home on Friday afternoons. Grandpa worked in a zinc smelter and every evening when he came home, he would take a shower and drop his overalls in the cloths basket, after he showered, we then sit down at the dinner table and ate supper.

In summer, we usually went to the lake on the weekends. Sometimes we drove up on Friday night. If we were going to the lake that night, then Grandpa packed the car and we got started. The Lake wasn't very far away and Grandpa could sleep in the next day.

If we drove to the lake, then we didn't eat supper on Friday evening until we arrived at the "trailer house" as we referred to the Mobile home that Grandpa kept at the lake. On Saturday, after Grandpa got up we would go boat riding, swimming and skiing. Grandpa wouldn't let us swim unless he was there to act as life guard.