Ode To Saturday Nights

Ode to Saturday NightsDo you remember those nights that rest in your mind and bring you that comfort feeling? You will probably even restfully sign inside. I just want to share with you some of those memories I love to think about and be thankful for. During my childhood most of the time it was Saturday night because my parents were hard workers Monday through Friday. For you and your family it may be Tuesday night or Thursday night. Whenever you choose, just make sure you do! It does not take a lot of money or resources, just some creative brainstorming. Make these memories for your family, because we so often overlook blessings that can be made so easily! Create “Saturday nights” for your family this week!

Ode To Saturday Nights

Couch with pillows.

Ten-thirty rolls around.

Killer bees attack.

Arrows go through our heads.


Playing card games and burgers in the skillet.

Laughs and update.

Jane and Dan.

Rosanna Dana, Buckwheat, and Mr. Robinson.

Falls, calls, and visual vocabulary.

Musical artists not really known.


On the seats of the Ryman,

As the songs put you to sleep.

Bowing our heads as the leader of the band prays for the evening.

Rides on the way home with the music blaring on the radio,

As my head rest in Mama’s lap.

Songs of love, of betrayal, of the times, and of politics.


Fire crackling as we settle into the camp chairs.

Warm throws warding off the chill.

One story starts about the biggest fish,

And ends with the one who has the biggest fart.

The water waves slightly slap the bank.


The smell of oyster stew floating through the air.

The card tables scattered around the room.

Rook hands become the competition of the night.

The snow falls quietly outside in the cold,

As the hearts inside are warmed with laughter and love.


The light slowly goes down.

Blinks of energy appear in the grasses as sparkles appear overhead.

The white, wood swing creaks as it moves forward and backward.

The night sounds put one to sleep.

Then the train whistle can be heard in the distance.


Just one more time around the trees.

Down the drive,

And through the grass.

The bike’s tires flow smoothly over the rocks and the grass.

Making the rider feel like they are gliding through space.

The wind on our faces let us fly.

Just one more time, please!


The aroma of the tilled dirt rises in the air.

As the coolness of the night arrives,

The dirt is warm and soft between your toes.

We pat the rich, brown soil gently around the root and base of the plant.

This warmth and smell is home.

We feel we are dreaming from the sky through the ground,

As the moon ascends across the rows.

Lori Rennae Hickman Chapman

Thank you so much for reading with me this week. I have still continued with some health issues so that is the reason I have not been with you each week. Thank you for hanging in there with me! I hope every night this week is a Saturday night for you!



Family and Traditions


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