Monday, Monday ...

When you work for yourself and from home the day of the week is less important. Nevertheless, for me there is a kind of residual foreboding about a Monday. Those Mondays! Ah, I remember them well.
Right now puts me in mind of the post-Sabbath heavy horse, feeling the renewed weight and confine of his harness, lo0king out across the rain-swept, unploughed fields.
These days there's no weight and no harness in my Monday morning other than the ones self-imposed by a creator of words and pictures. No-one to award merits or demerits for timeliness or lateness. Yet still you want to plough those acres ... have to plough those acres ... the human condition.

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