The Heart of a Fat Saturday

You who frequent these pages know that I love a fat saturday. If you're new around here, you should know that 'fat' doesn't mean a sitting around eating your face off saturday - though that could be part of it. What makes a saturday 'fat' is an effable feeling of good will - of tasks done and laziness appreciated both. It could (and often does) include a trip to one of the markets. The step-dot is often part of it or sweet patootie or Kerol or ...

The origin of the fat saturday feeling was on my mind today. Today isn't a fat saturday. It is a restless, uprooted uneasy saturday or that's how it began. So then I started thinking about where the good feeling of saturday began. It was my daddio and my mum who made it so. When we were little little and lived in Edmonton, Alberta, we would often go on a Saturday to the grocery store. The whole gang of us - Don, Jude, me and the folks would pile in the station wagon (was it yet? not sure) and go to the Dominion. I don't remember the actual shopping, just the going. And after. After we'd be home and my dad would make us rootbeer floats! And sardine sandwiches!! Yay! And we'd read the colour comics that came with the weekend paper! That's the heart of a fat saturday - well-being, not too much to do, family and something yummy to eat.

Today I was blue. I miss my dad and I'd made no plans to go to the market. We are going to Kerol's for dinner tonight so that was good but I felt restless and not good. So I went downstairs to the recroom to find my guy and told him and he cuddled me a bit. Then I told him, asked him, if we could go get fish & chips. Somehow that would help the day. We talked a bit about where we could go and I know he didn't want to but he would then I said 'we could go to Peggy's Cove' and immediately that was the right answer. And I know why but I didn't say. It was gingerbread. They serve a pretty decent gingerbread at the cove restaurant. We took Hoagy with us cuz he needed a walk and we stopped about half a mile this side of the cove where we saw a path leading out onto the rocks. We went for a nice long ramble and at the end of it found this concrete foundation. The path was an old road - Ron thinks at least over 30 years old. They don't allow building around Peggy's Cove except the houses that are in the actual village - the rest is protected land but at one time it wasn't. We took photos and decided we'd come back when it was less wet and snowy or we had better hiking shoes on.

Then we headed for the cove and I got my fish and chips and read the Globe and Mail and Ron had not so good gingerbread (it had been nuked!) but we were happy enough. And I feel better.