Approaching this past weekend my husband Dave was glum. He is a true social butterfly and likes to have his weekend evenings jam-packed with activity. He mentioned several times during the week that he wanted me to plan some fun stuff for the weekend.
When I still didn’t have anything lined up by Thursday he wasn’t very happy. Sure he was golfing Saturday morning, coming along to hear me speak in a rural church on Sunday morning, and was volunteering at the West End Cultural Centre later Sunday night, but that still left huge empty swaths of time in his weekend calendar.
Saturday morning new acquaintances from church phoned. Did we want to come to their off Broadway carriage house to watch the Jets Game and have supper that night? We happily accepted their invitation.
Then Sunday afternoon we got a text from my sister. It was so lovely outside did we want to join her and her husband on an outdoor patio for supper?
Just like that Dave had something to do every evening on the weekend. He was a happy guy!
I did point out to him that if I had made plans for all three nights we’d have been unable to accept any of the delightful invitations that came our way. My social butterfly grudgingly agreed that maybe my lack of planning had been serendipitous.