My sweetie, Michael, often quotes the Calvin & Hobbes book title, “The Days Are Just Packed.” We find this to be especially true on the weekend. Like many of our counterparts, we do the “9-to-5 Song & Dance” Monday through Friday so we can be superheroes on Saturday and Sunday, pop a few over-the-counter pain relievers, get a good night’s sleep and do it all over again the following week.
Now that spring has finally sprung, we’re certainly in full weekend warrior mode around here, fitting as much in 48 hours as is superhumanly possible. Sometimes what we can accomplish simply astounds us, and this past weekend was no exception.
To nourish ourselves for this particular weekend, we started out on Friday night with a trip to our favorite Chinese buffet then turned in early, partly so we would be rested up for the morrow, and partly because we were too full to do anything else.
Saturday morning we were up and about earlier than usual. Since my time-management skills are somewhat more developed than Michael’s, I organized our errands to economize both fuel and hours. First we dropped the Corolla off at the garage for four new tires, visualizing about $250 flying out the window as we pulled away in my vehicle. But we tried not to think about that as we proceeded to the farmers’ market at Fort Andross, a much happier place than the automotive garage with its purposeful petroleum products and smell of rubber.
We mingled with “our people,” purchasing smoked turkey and fingerling potatoes, then headed downtown to F.W. Horch Sustainable Goods & Supplies for organic seeds. While there, I successfully talked Michael out of buying yet another gardening book because we already have about 30 of them. We then stopped at the local hardware store to buy brackets to hang a birdhouse and an edger to add to our collection of garden tools, which Michael refers to as “good property.”
Next on the agenda was kayak shopping, but first we nourished ourselves so we’d have our wits fully about us when making our big decision. We lingered at Sarah’s in Wiscasset for awhile, daydreaming aloud about all the adventures we’d have this summer paddling Maine’s myriad waterways.
After taking two hours to choose our kayaks with the help of the nice proprietor at Wiscasset Trading Post, we drove home with our many assorted boating accessories, including a how-to DVD and guide books I didn’t even try to talk Michael out of buying, since he thinks books are the best property of all.
On Sunday, we didn’t do anything nearly as exciting as stimulating the local economy, but we still got a lot done, even after extending our favorite, very indulgent “Sunday Morning Coffee Hour” to 11 a.m. We did this because I remember Calvin saying to Hobbes, “Weekends don’t count unless you do something pointless.”
Fortified by three cups of caffeine each, we then marched out to the yard to figure the dimensions of the new pergola, which I ambitiously envision to be dripping with wisteria by next summer, then spent the remainder of the afternoon digging two raised beds for all those aforementioned organic garden seeds. While we shoveled dirt and hauled sod, we discussed where we would locate the tepees for the pole beans and the stonework for the fire ring, which, with any luck will happen next weekend … after we try out the kayaks.
The setting sun found us dining on pot roast dinner and rhubarb crisp. We were tired, happy, full of hope and big plans … yes, indeedy, our days are just packed.

Karen Schneider is a freelance writer who lives in Bath. She may be reached by e-mail at [email protected]

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