A Saturday for doing everything

Some weekends are meant for vegging out, doing absolutely nothing - sleep, read, sleep, read, trash TV, read, sleep, trash TV - those infamous "lost weekends." Others, however, are filled with energy and the realization that you gotta work fast to get everything done that you mean to get done. And, you guessed it - it's weekend #2 for me. To put it in literary terms (with a big doff of the hat to Mr. Ecclesiastes):

For every "to-do" list there is a weekend,
a weekend for every purpose on the list.
A time to clean out the refrigerator and a time to let things rot in the refrigerator;
a time to wash the bed-sheets and a time to sleep on those sheets one more night;
a time to decorate for Halloween and a time to keep the house holiday-neutral a while longer ...
a time to write brilliant things and a time to just think about writing brilliant things;
a time to quickly finish reading a book and a time to take your time reading a book ...
a time to put the dog outside so you can get some work done and a time to bring the dog back inside after everything is in order;
a time to go grocery shopping and a time to put together an interesting stew with left-overs;
a time to sew hooks back on waistbands and a time to use safety pins a while longer;
a time to break out the Murphy's Oil and a time to give the floors just a lick and a promise;
a time to get your papers organized and a time to keep sticking 'em in that cute wicker basket;
a time for a nice cuppa tea and - well, it's always time for a nice cuppa tea.

Notice there's no "turn, turn, turn" after every phrase. I wonder if Mr. Ecclesiastes did a big "Doh! Why didn't I think of adding that?" when he heard The Byrds' song? Have a marvelous Saturday, whichever parts of the phrases you indulge in today. (Ooops. I notice two Flintstone blog illustrations in a row. I must be going through a regressive cartoony phase or something.)