aka the weekend papers
Most weekends I get the Saturday paper with the intention of setting aside some time to catch up on the world, read the reviews and check out the cinema listings. But fair weather weekends are usually spent outdoors on the hill with a rucksack stuffed with camera gear, soup and a pastie. Rainy days are just as busy, trips to DIY shops, painting or wallpaper stripping. There’s rarely time to read the papers.
I make a point of flicking through the glossy magazine – there are usually some beautiful photos to admire, and sometimes an article catches my eye and I shoehorn a bit of time out to read it. But most weeks when Friday comes around the most thumbed section is the tv guide, and I’ll chuck out family, jobs, money, travel, sport and sometimes even news without so much as a cursory glance. But with all that painting to be done, those unread sections never go to waste. (There are never, ever enough dust sheets, no matter how long you’ve been recycling sheets and duvet covers for the purpose.)
So most weeks at least I can glance at a few headlines as I open the paint tin, but as Mickey Flanagan announced to a chorus of laughter at the Buxton Opera House not so long ago, the weekend Guardian is just a £1.90 tv guide.
Though when Ron took the red eye flight to the US on a Sunday morning, I found myself with plenty of time to catch up on everything from world news to gardening tips.