I sit and ponder the events of the day thus far, and those to come. Ponder has its origins in Latin, pondus, which is weight. So we weigh things in our mind when we ponder. Think about, reflect on, sometimes deeply. My thoughts so far today would not qualify as “deep.” My morning show is not what I’d call deep at all, (I’ll admit to having my moments of heaviness when I really believe a situation warrants it) I do try to stay mentally focused on getting everything right and keeping things moving along. It’s important to me to be accurate with the traffic and weather, dates and details of concerts or local events, closings, gas-leaks, boil-bans, livestock in the roadway, and anything else I should make you aware of as you head out to take-on your day. But to go to that quiet place where true pondering occurs isn’t possible on-air. Today I’ve pondered what to have for dinner, (as you know from my previous blog I ate our dinner plan for breakfast today) whether I should ride to the lake with a rod & reel for a few hours this afternoon, I could take Mocha the dog for some exercise. Or I could get my tires rotated since I’m past due for that and an oil-change too. Be a good afternoon to get my bike-ride in as I’ve been skipping them in the morning since going back on the early shift. Heart-smart that would be. Hmmm. There must be at least a half a dozen little projects I need to do around the house for Shelley. Maybe the best bet is to soak-up some warm and welcome rays on the patio with the Lee Child I’m close to finishing-up. (Jack Reacher, what a bad ass dude!) I’m expecting my vinyl copy of the new Foo Fighters album this week too, it would be handy to be at home when that arrives. I need to dust-off the turntable. I’ll ponder all this and more later today, when I can really un-plug and do the serious brain-probe. The meaning of life, “chicken or the egg” gaze at the cosmos in wonder stuff. Like when will I finally be free on a nice weekend to go camping? Why is the express checkout never open when you’re in a hurry? Why do we use an “o” to spell opossum, when almost nobody ever pronounces it that way? I’m off to probe the depths of my mind, and perhaps I’ll hit the air tomorrow with a new clarity, or a brilliant insight to impart upon you. More likely, I’ll probably take a nap and let somebody else worry about it. Peace to ya.
“I can handle a possum for ya!”