Monday Morning Rambles

On Monday mornings I am dedicated to the proposition that all men are created jerks. 

-H. Allen Smith- 

So true. There is something about riding the subway early Monday morning that makes one want to turn around and go back home. Smiles are rare and grumpiness abounds.  It seems that no one likes Monday morning.  In Spain, they have a wonderful idea--Puente' days.  Puente' is the Spanish for bridge. Unlike the rest of the world, the Spanish hold their bank holidays on a Tuesday, consequently, on most occasions Monday will be treated as a 'bridge day' -- an extra day of holiday -- thus ensuring a four- day weekend. 

Here in this neck of the woods, the weather was pretty gloomy. It was rather cool and damp, pretty miserable on those old arthritic bones.  Recently, I started taking Krill oil. Several  studies have indicated that it arthritic pain and inflammatory pain of joints and is very good for the heart.  Krill are tiny, shrimp-like creatures that flourish deep in the Antarctic Ocean; the oil is better absorbed into your body than the Omega-3 from regular fish oil.

My dad died of a heart attack.  He'd had his first one when he was in his 30's and died of a major coronary in his early 60's. I'll soon turn 65, and lately I've been thinking about my own mortality. While researching for my latest blog on Cronehood, I've had to face the fact that, although I've accepted the fact that my youth is far behind me, I have not, consciously, accepted the fact that changes do have to be made.  I can no longer get by eating many of the foods the foods  and have to learn how to 'let go'.  Ice cream once in awhile is fine, but every night is a 'no-no'.   High fat lunches have to go and be replaced with healthy, leafy greens.  What got me by in my youth is slowly killing me in my declining years.

Change is never easy, and I know I've a steep uphill climb, but I know I can do it.  If I could stop smoking after 48 years, I can do anything I set my mind to.

Nothing that is can pause or stay;
The moon will wax, the moon will wane,
The mist and cloud will turn to rain,
The rain to mist and cloud again,
Tomorrow be today.

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow- 

I'd like to close with the following in honor of those who lost loved ones or  died in the tornado zone.  Such a tragedy.  I light a candle and send prayers and healing thoughts your way.

They are not dead,

Who leave us this great heritage of remembering joy.

They still live in our hearts,

In the happiness we knew, in the dreams we shared.

They still breathe,

In the lingering fragrance,windblown, from their favorite flowers.

They still smile in the moonlight’s silver,

And laugh in the sunlight’s sparking gold.

They still speak in the echoes of the words we’ve heard them say again and again.

They still move,

In the rhythm of waving grasses, in the dance of the tossing branches.

They are not dead;

Their memory is warm in our hearts, comfort in our sorrow.

They are not apart from us, but part of us,

For love is eternal,

And those we love shall be with us throughout all eternity.

-Anonymous-