Although the fig tree does not blossom or not fruits be on the vines. Hab. 3,17
The weekend is for many people, a rest and recreation symbol; however in my case, it is only the continuity of madness but in different spaces and with other companies.
The usual ones are my children and my wife.
Circumstances do not matter: electrical cuts, deficiencies or high prices, crises of any kind and labor responsibilities.
It is about making the weekend a party, another opportunity to forget about surrounding chaos and cling to small things.
Going on an excursion with the children, to a modest amusement park, is like returning to childhood, forgeting the bills and debts, the duty on our shoulders, letters to write and go deep in the living happiness to be alive in spite of fiars and limitations
If friends also appear, a guitar, a drink of coffee mixed with verses (and not with peas).Then the weekend tastes like heaven. It will recharge your batteries for next Monday, the continuous continuity of the continuous and you will understand that despite the regrets, life is beautiful.
While playing with the children or in a mean time I observe them as they enjoy their surroundings.When I walk hand by hand with my wife or enlighting the night with music and poetry, it seems like the weekend is like a parallel world, where it is worth being happy although beyond, in the world of the sad ones, the world is a mass
We choose to be partially happy this weekend.
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