The youngest flew to San Diego last weekend in order to play in an Ultimate Frisbee tournament (frisbee being a prime reason for her wanting to study in the USA this year). Unfortunately she was subject to travel disruption arising from the tropical storm which has been battering California. The BBC described it as a bombogenesis; what a descriptive word.
In any event and as a result she landed two hours late at approximately midnight. I was pleasantly surprised, therefore, to get up on Saturday morning and find that, despite the eight hour time difference, she was available to chat via What's App.
"You're up early," she said.
"It's actually 8 am," I replied, thinking she was still on Texan time which is only six hours behind, and had inadvertently assumed I was clutching my phone at the unearthly hour of 6 am.
"I meant for a Saturday," came the response.
Curiously I no longer take advantage of the slow start that was always offered by a weekend morning in my working years. Is it because in retirement there's too much to cram in, even on a weekend off, to waste it lying in bed, or perhaps because I generally awake at the point where I am fully rested rather than at a pre-set time on the alarm clock? Certainly I don't think I have yet reached that fabled stage of life where I might rise early because I no longer need so much sleep.
I'm unsure of the analysis but my reply was on point: "There's no such thing as Saturday in retirement."