So here is monday.

Monday is never a good subject for a positive email. How many well intentioned postings have fallen victim to the Monday Hex. Mondays bear the burden of "that" day. The day of the week that narrowly clips the mid-week tradegy of Wednesday. TGIM...no, never. So friends how do we change this morose view that permeates the mundacity of Monday's. Let us take back this day so that once again we can take on this daunting world with a full week in front of us. Heaven knows we fabled few who fight the good fight have a hard enough time sparring this world with six good daysa week. Let Monday mark the end of reluctance and revulsion and the beginning of a proactive catalyst for our weekly attempt to honor the giver of all that is...even gnats, boils, and alas....mondays.

Deisel

Grace

Blog....the very word sets my mind to pondering the worth of my own words set forth in mega pixels. Are my ramblings worth your effort and yawns. Could this be the moment when my waxing of all things poetic, this attempt to pour out my heart by way of my soul will find a welcome ear of one in such a plight as mine. A plight of "I am here, but there is where all things will be done". The idea that I am somehow chosen to change this space but am constantly bouyed by grace. And in grace will i cling and proclaim that once again i am ready to break this mold and leave this paragraph unto a new, brighter morn where i once again strap on faith and plunge into this riddle.
And here we find ourselves, one space down but leauges past where we were just then.

Deisel

Here is a riddleesque thing i wrote up while lounging in Boston moons ago. A correct answer will warrant a rousing round of applause from the residents of........the Deisel Hollow




The day was young as he strode to the hut that had housed his existence for so long. And when he stopped and turned towards the mountain he knew the day would end in defeat. And there was no escaping this one. He set to his tasks though with a Spartan indulgence. And when he finished the sorrow once again crept in. Only the mindless work took his thoughts off the descending doom. When at last he ran out of tasks he finally entered his hut and set about to thinking if his ample mind had missed the answer to his unanswerable questions. The front flap of the hut was pulled back so as he could see the rising sun and dream of the coming moon. His heart had once known unending joy. Now he only cast pain and dread. He looked at the sky again fearing the day his enemy would come over the mountain and forever change his already unbearable life. Who was the man and who did he live in fear?