Of how my weekends fly past by !

Come midweek and the excitement for the weekend starts creeping in. Fridays- easily the favourite day of the week. But post Friday night.. a sense of the off-time ticking away comes in quick on Sunday..and then you wake up to another gloomy Monday morning and..

What’s worst is I can’t seem to gather how productive I have been or how much work I’ve gotten done.. for in adult life, yes, weekends become days to “get work done”.

.This is an account to recount how my last few weekends have been..

Not so “productive”..but there have been some nice, relaxing times. Besides my usual quota of movies to watch, here’s how it has been ! :

My zealous sister engaged me in collecting leaves and flowers to dry. This is not the first time we were upto this activity..we have done it before, but it seems like it turned out prettier than ever before.

While one weekend passed in collecting, drying, pressing, then air drying them.. another went by in getting them together on a cartridge sheet to be framed.

The dead secret garden is away at the photographer’s to be framed, at the moment.
As things of the past have a special kind of beauty to them, so do these..dried and pressed flowers..they have a similar emotion of tragic romance attached.

The weekends obviously didn’t entirely pass with me drying flowers all the time. Incidentally, the other two activities to follow were also initiatives of my sister.

A bitch in the neighbourhood gave birth to six puppies, a few weeks ago, of which three have survived. Over the weekend, they finally opened their eyes. We have been caring for the lot since they were born and before..it feels good to have an association with these little ones, growing up so fast.. one minute just born, minimal senses.. a few days later, licking our fingers and wagging their tiny tails as we come close.

So this once, the three cuties who survived have been named Layla, Ringo and Halley, by us. Here are two of them, eyes freshly opened:

Hailly and Ringo

The account cannot end without mention of some kind of food.
Anu, my sister, the heroine of my story, also stepped into the kitchen last weekend and made some plum jam. The recipe has come down from my grandmother to my father to now-Anu.
My contribution in this project is none, except that I stored away the jam and while doing so, stole a couple of clicks.

There ends the story of my actually-uneventful weekends. There’s another weekend round the corner.. Friday is almost here..!

Some Yoda wishes !

)
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