Saturdays are winding-down days, days when my heartbeat slows and my brain speeds up (much to my husband's distress).

Things call to me now that I saw needed doing during the week. Strip the bed, deadhead the flowers planted outside the door, polish my grandmother's silver.

And then our cat, Baby, meanders past my bare toes and I scoop him into my arms. All those other things will have to wait while I luxuriate, snuggling with the softest, silkiest fur I have ever felt. The steady drumming of a contented purr vibrates my ribs and I think - THIS is what Saturdays are for.