I didn’t realise that I had a Saturday morning ritual until I moved in with my partner.  Before then I’d just managed to get on with it without reflection, missing it whenever I was over at hers or she was at mine.  When we moved in together and our lives blurred, she noticed that I did the same thing every Saturday.  I’d wake up and make a pot of coffee and pick a record, doing little more than listening to it in silence with a cat on my lap or standing in front of the record player.  It was a way to just let everything soak in, settle down and gear up.  It was the strange moment of stasis I had before the day began and I gradually moved towards Monday.  My partner will be upstairs sleeping or getting ready for the day.  I get a brief moment of my…