There is nothing joyful about Mondays. When I was a kid, it would start with the Ed Sullivan show. You knew it was Sunday night and that the fun was over. Monday's are hard, but then I guess if we had Monday's off, Tuesday's would be hard. The common denominator is work, but as someone once said, if it was fun, it would be called fun, thus it is called work. So before even getting out of bed I knew it was going to be tough to kill the gloom today. What could there possibly be to bring joy to the day. Getting to work, I blew off the music. Yea, that did make me pretty happy the first day, but I was being a pollyanna then. This little project is not even a week old and I am out of joy. So I scanned my email, and realized that I had forwarded to myself at work the pictures from my camera taken on Christmas. I opened them, and shuffled through and came across this one of my adorable baby grandson, Marcus. Immediate warmth and joy flooded me. What can be more joyful than a baby's first Christmas. So I kept looking at it throughout the day, restoking the joy fire with that little face.
1 comments:
I love his big brown eyes.
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