The Benefit Of Sleeping Well

It's that time again, the time to start pounding out silly words and hope they all make sense in a row. At least it will be easier this time, as for the first time in more than a month, tiredness is away and sleep has been predominant. The Quirky Muffin, as an extension of its writer, is finally well rested again. It's a wonderful and rare feeling. Maybe it's partly connected to being in the nicer half of the year too...

What could we write about in this new and exciting era? What new realms of imagination or scholarly endeavour remain to be plumbed? The nature of Christmas itself? A new plan for personalised bank holidays? The wonders of Dr McCoy's boom boom machine? What to write about? What? It's fortunate that we have a mandate for being determinedly undetermined, specifically unspecific, and fixedly unfixed in focus, or the Muffin might be in trouble! Tomorrow, a post on the pilot episode for the new-ish 'Supergirl' series will go up, but right now what shall it be?

There is a theory, a prominent one here at QM headquarters, that in your life you are usually either giving of yourself or giving to yourself. You are taking in or giving out. If you do too much of one of the other, you become out of balance and erratic. Teaching is a highly giving exercise. If you don't take time to do the opposite, you will run yourself ragged, as I nearly have. Holidays are a great time for calming down, relaxing and taking in peace and energy for a while. You get to read, watch television, think calm thoughts and be  at ease with the world. Good grief, this year has not been one conducive to the meditative and absorptive half of life! However, it's almost over now and we can relax. There is 'Around The World In Eighty Days' almost finished on the book pile, the Conan stories are a quarter read, 'Gilligan's Island', 'Batman', 'The Mentalist' and 'JAG' are all going swimmingly in the DVD rotations, and there's even time for a little bit of music.

Also, in a sign of definite holiday fever, a jigsaw puzzle has been embarked upon. Nothing shrieks of contemplation quite as much as a well patterned and highly irregular jigsaw of a beautiful illustration or painting. You take a chaotic pile of fragments, slowly sift them for the edges, establish the frame or context of the puzzle, and then build order from the madness. Well, for the most part my father will do the work compulsively, but it's still quite the project.

We're old school here at this weblog. Rathbone and Bruce all the way.

O.