From March through to November I work every weekend and Bank Holiday. Which is fine by me, as I loathe Sundays, as a rule, and Bank Holidays are simply an extra Sunday equivalent. This time of year is when I revert, for a brief period of time, to a normal working pattern of Monday to Friday, 9 to 5, so I can spend my weekends experiencing those joys that others take for granted all year round.
I have to say, going to the supermarket on a Saturday is not a great deal of fun. The crowds! The children! The screaming! (Bizarre, disembodied, continual screaming from the far reaches of the supermarket - what on earth was that all about? Had someone else realised that shopping on a Saturday was a terrible idea?)
Still, the good thing is I get to enjoy leisurely starts to the day, sleeping in late and then pottering about the place in my nightwear, without having to race against the clock, to get myself, and the house, decent before everyone arrives. I also get to put my wellies on and go and play in the woods - and that can't be bad!