The weather is fall perfect. It is 72° and beautifully sunny. The light glints through the still green leaves. A slight breeze blows the smallest branches. My house is chilly. It holds the cool air from the nighttime when the temperature goes down to the mid or low 60’s. I do have two dogs with me in bed every night who keep me warm, but I pay for that. They take up most of the room.

This morning I spent some time on the Coffee dashboard. I checked the map to see which countries had the most viewers. I was astonished to find number one is China by a wide margin. The US is second. India had one viewer.

Saturday has always been my favorite day. When I was a kid, Saturday had a pattern. I was up early, filled my bowl with milk and cereal, usually Rice Krispies, then I’d plunk down in front of the TV to watch cartoons and TV shows like Fury, Sky King, Sergeant Preston, Howdy Doody and Kukla, Fran and Ollie. I’d watch a while then grab my bike to start an adventure. I never had a plan. I just rode. If something caught my eye, I’d stop. I’d eat lunch on the road. Sometimes I went to the library. When the weather changed and fall fell into winter, I’d go to the matinee or ice skate or go sledding if we had snow. I filled my Saturdays. I loved Saturday nights as we got to stay up later. When I was older, I’d sleep in on Saturdays. In the afternoon, I’d sometimes meet friends. On Saturday nights we’d get together often at one of our houses. We had fun being together.

In Ghana, Saturday started slowly. I’d have my breakfast then maybe read a little or write letters home. I’d go into town. If it was market day, I’d shop the tables. I’d bring my stretchy shepherd’s bag and fill it with fruit, tomatoes and onions and beef from the meat market. The bag got bottom heavy. Before I got my motor cycle, I’d start walking home. Someone always stopped and gave me a ride. Saturday nights were my favorite nights. It was a fun night. One Saturday night might have tribal dancing. Each tribe would have its own spot for their tribal dancing. I’d wander the school grounds and watch. Once in a while they’d be a movie compliments of the USAID guy who would periodically drop by my town. I remember the movie that showed flies walking in poop then walking on food. It was a cartoon. My students loved it. Another night was in the dining room with all the tables and chairs moved out. It was a dance night. Music boomed, and my students, all females, danced with each other. They sang along loudly. I remember them singing at the tops of their voice, “Say it loud. I’m black and proud.”

I’ll stop here, and keep you on the edges of your seats as to the Saturdays when I was older. I will admit I now enjoy a nap on Saturday afternoons.

This entry was posted on September 12, 2026 at 12:34 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.