I'm at two minds about Mondays.
Some I love.
You know the ones that open like a Cath Kidston catalogue, sunny and bright.
I'd like to live in a Cath Kidston catalogue.
I don't think my son would like it but I know my little girl would.
colourful flower, warm pale blue stripes, dining al fresco in perfect weather under the trees with a bright peony patterned table cloth...
Oh sorry, that's me again.
Those are the good Mondays.
Then there is the Monday that opens with potential and crumbles hopelessly into just another yucky day.
Wearing two sweaters in mid May is just plain sad.
It makes me feel sad and a sad person moves slowly.
I had to repeat yoga moves this morning because they just wouldn't register with my body.
Down Dog then get up.
Hello! Get up.
On Sunday nights, I lay in bed and think of all the great things that I could do starting on the Monday morning.
Tescos and the school run just don't help the mood.
I think I need some inspiration; oh and some more sunshine.
I have to say though, my four little time wasters at the end of the garden perked me up some.
They don't care if it's Monday or Christmas really - do they?
They also don't care if it's chilly and grey out.
The little hens still lay a lovely egg or two for me.
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