Weekend wondering

It's strange to live in a world of Saturdays. You'd think it would be the ultimate fantasy. It's what I'm sharing with my mother, whose mind is sojourning in a temporal zone not completely fixed in everyday experience. She observes now and then that every day seems like Saturday, or maybe Sunday; she stays up until 10 or 11; she sleeps late - bless her heart! - she is tending more and more not to know what day it is. I've been trying to accentuate the positive in this regard, as in, it doesn't really matter if you can't remember what day it is, we'll look at the newspaper or the calendar, or just ask and I'll tell you. She's drifting more and more, but at least she's remaining the sweet positive person at her core. Lately she's reading murder mysteries written by an Australian writer, Arthur W. Upfield, published in the 1940's. They proceed at a statelier pace than more current fiction, and she can keep track of the plot more readily.
Today was a climbing gym day, but I was still tired from yesterday's route-setting, running and workout; or maybe coming down with something. Hard to get fired up about trying anything difficult, so my buddy Candi and I kept it moderate. Some women about my age who are just learning to lead tried my new route, and said they liked it. Interesting to be on the other side of the equation.