Monday arrives as Monday often arrives. I wish I were fully rested, but the rain drumming the top of a metal shed won’t allow that. Last night’s screeching barred owl punctuated my sleep until dawn. Let’s not forget the tree frogs looking for lunch and love.

I’m tired.

I’m recovering from working in the yard Saturday and all afternoon Sunday at the beach with friends. Leaves and pine cones are removed and friendships were fortified. A fine time was had by all.

I ache.

There’s writing and editing to do. I’ve a short talk to give Tuesday night I need to practice. And, who knows what emails and phone calls will bring?

Monday. Tired.

I wouldn’t trade a moment.