Friday

Hazy, morning. 

Not keen for work. Friday bells. Meditated with mindfulness hoping for mindlessness. Shower and morning Tea were consumed. Soothing music to sooth me on google nest and the usual chit chat with kiddies in UK, saying “niteo “(good night).

Sky is hazy and clear. It’s always. May be a Needle shower today unlike yesterday; thunderous downpour,  like a wailing sperm whale (Netflix, you tube). It’s December. Brown grass has metamorphosed into something, along with flies. Smell of a just mowed grass, wafting up like a slow aphrodisiac, in the nearer air. A human being can only move at his or her own pace (read somewhere). Snails too; scattered and spluttered on the pathway. Few lying crushed out by overzealous joggers and early morning walkers. May be a tasty meal or two for early morning chirpers. Slugs moving painfully, leaving a jelly, slimy, reflective, trail. Grown up trees spewing oxygen at my masked up attire with laughter. I almost lost balance and did a ballet maneuver to retain myself on the slippery slope. Few bruises for the week.

Calf muscles ache from a previous night run. I like to run for ever. Been running for 24 years. Managed to drop a kilo or two at the very beginning. Then the mind took over; indulgence followed by running; weekend gluttony versus weekday abstinence. Now, the weight has stabilised; at least mentally. Face has shrunken; paunch is bellying up; and the age is shooting up. Been balancing the ever quavering mind, rather than the ever fiddling body weight. Agenda is to live longer; kindly check my family history folks !

Sky is clearer, here and there. It’s always been. One of the constants. Slow stroll, which is my forte. Sea and sky; the perennial wonders for me. Haziness is better. Much clearer. May have a coffee soon. My only caffeine drink of the day. Tonight, may be netflixing aided by a shot of whiskey; to celebrate my hard earned life and years of jogging, which meekly started in a cold, clumsy December night in Stafford, UK ,24 years ago, few months before my wedding; of course with odd breaks here and there when I actually looked more or less like, Henry the VIII.

Nice weekend folks.