Last weekend

Since we started living together in 2013, my husband and I have not had weekends.

Sure there were Saturdays and Sundays. As writers with clients, we worked when we had deadlines.

This doesn't mean we worked 16 hours a day, seven days a week. We could sneak off to a movie matinee midweek, or take a walk in the countryside when the weather was beautiful. We visited with friends or explored museums and historical sites. But during other people's weekend, we might be pounding away on our laptops.

The advantage for this was that there were less crowds during the weekend.

When we were in Argelès, the morning marchés were more of a time marker. In Geneva the only marker were stores closed late Saturday afternoon and didn't open until Monday morning but since we shopped during the week, we seldom noticed.

Then this January, Rick started an intensive French course, Monday through Friday, three hours a day. Suddenly there was a real weekend that needed a totally different schedule. The alarm did not go off on Saturday and Sunday.

He has his important big French test on the 17th. Rather than take two more weeks of class, he is planning to revise at home. I love the Brit term for studying for a test of as "revision."

Thus, this was our last weekend as others spend them. We dropped books off at the library, took a long walk in the Park de Penthes with Sherlock (photos), then had a gourmet lunch at the restaurant there.

Tomorrow he goes back to revision and servicing clients. It's okay.