Take a firm grip of that axe, ‘hatchet-weilder’ … it’s time to start stacking up some pulp for the arrival of good ol’ ‘whitebeard’ … ‘Jack Frost’ … ‘Old Man Winter’ … bbrrrrrrrr.
So yea, yea, yea I know I said ‘Sundays are for rest’ a few blogs back
and here I am, seemly contradicting every hole in the hull of that dreamboat. Welps, consider then that this entry might could be the follow-up to that very article. Why? Cuz I’m no ‘genius’. I learn something everyday that inevitably ends up pertaining to this crazy thing we all share at this very moment … life.
Rest? ‘Who’s got the time for that?!?’ or ‘must be nice(uber-condesention detected from every possible angle)‘! You’ve heard it before, right?
Truth is, ‘rest’ is now something that triggers ‘the envy-mode’? Uh-oh.
C’mon, everyone deserves a lil’ bit o’ down-time.
However, ‘rest’ can be translated into many forms. For some, naps can trigger open the sacred door of full relaxation and rejuvenation (which was said to have worked for JFK who was known for the keen application of the ‘power nap’ in-between all those public appearances and jet-flights across the continents).
But not me. My mind will NOT rest, even if my body is screaming, ‘hey Bruce Jenner! How about taking a break from the ‘triathlon’ and take five?’. My subconscious just giggles underneath a barely audible ‘yea, right’.
So here’s the thing. When I’m hyper-revved and cannot seem to catch synch with ‘the magical rest boat’, I find a task that doesn’t require a whole lot of brain-load to help trance me into a gradual slope of de-stressing. Chopping a whole lot o’ wood seems to do it for me, and it preps the homestead for that cyclical blast from the ‘King of the Tundra’, the ‘Coldest Cube in the Cup’, ‘Good ol’ Freeze Teeth’ or just ‘Bbrrrrr’ … yup, Winter.
Here’s to below-zero stress levels … *tink*