Last night got downright chilly, the low 50’s. I shut a few windows and closed doors. Today is another delightful day. It is 77°, the high for the day. The breeze is strong and northern. The leaves are jumping, twisting and turning. The sun shines framed by a lighter blue sky.

Since I was little, Saturday has been my favorite day. I’d stay in my pajamas, sit on the rug in front of the TV and watch all the Saturday morning programs. I’d eat my Rice Krispies. I always lifted the bowl to my ear to hear Snap, Crackle and Pop. By mid-morning, I was ready to get dressed and roam on my bicycle, my sort of trusty steed. My bike was a three season bike. Only in winter did it often stay in the cellar. In the cold, snowy weather my ice skates and my sled became my substitute trusty steeds though they were not for roaming. I sledded on my hill and skated either at the nearby swamp or at the park a few blocks from my house. I walked there. By late afternoon, I was usually home.

When I was older, I’d sleep in on Saturdays because Friday nights were busy. My friends and I often went out. My school dances were on Fridays. Some Fridays we’d bowl. I was always a bad bowler. Three balls were never enough. Mine tended to the gutters. If I hit even a couple of pins, it was time for celebration. We’d sometimes just get together at one of our houses. We’d play games. We’d eat snacks, usually chips and pizza. Saturday nights were usually unplanned, open for whatever. I remember one Saturday night my friend Jimmy and I went square dancing at Marconi Hall, the town’s social hub for special events, memorable family parties, birthday celebrations and after funeral get togethers. When we got to the door, we were stopped. The square dancing was an adult event, but it was decided we could join. That was one of the best nights. We do-si-doed all night. We were exhausted. I remember a slow walk home.

Saturday in Ghana for me wasn’t special. It was a regular day, just not a teaching day. Sometimes a Saturday was market day. I loved market days and always went to town. I went to my usual tables for eggs, onions and tomatoes then I roamed around looking for surprises. Sometimes I’d buy cloth for a new dress. I’d buy a chicken. The chickens were tied to a rope stretched across the ground. I’d walk around the lines looking for a plump chicken. My choice was handed to me with its feet tied. It would be Saturday’s dinner. I’d fill my shepherd’s bag, put it around the handle on one side of my moto then I’d put the chicken on the other side. On Saturday afternoons, I’d sit around to read and listen to music. Sometimes I’d nap. In the evenings students often came to visit, a Saturday only event.

When I was home and teaching, I never did school work on a Saturday. It was my free day. It was my favorite day. We’d often get together at somebody’s house, have a few drinks, some snacks and some great conversation. Sometimes we’d go out to eat, nowhere fancy.

Since my retirement, I think of every day as a Saturday, open and free for happenstance.

This entry was posted on July 25, 2026 at 1:46 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.