This weekend I intend to sleep.

This weekend I intend to do nothing. I intend to potter at most, but I will not lift a finger if it can be helped. With both TH and I having low level but very annoying colds that can not be shifted with pills and sticky bottles that ooze out pink or green medicine, we think we may just have to do it the proper way…and give ourselves time.
We hope to go to Haddo on our favourite walk, but if it is at the expense of moving out of a cushioned chair on a windy day we will most probably not go at all. We will end up forgoing cups of tea for the very same reason.

No, this weekend, it has been decided, is a weekend for rest and recuperation. This weekend is for big pots of tea. This weekend is for books and old films. This weekend will possibly contain some stitching of things to put away for Christmas and it may even warrant a roast or something similarly slow cooked, but it will contain nothing strenuous.