I'm a hard worker but I ain't workin' on a Monday.

Monday is generally my day off from the day job and today was no exception. I had occassion to be close to the home of my friend and blogging confederate Mscatcalls and so I took the opportunity to have a ride up the coast to visit St Mary's island, of which there are some wonderful photos (and other parts of England's rugged North East coast) on her blog http://catcalls13.blogspot.com/, check it out.

There is something wonderful about being off work on a Monday. Everyone else is back in the office or getting used to the daily grind of the new week's challenges and while they are adjusting to this I usually get the chance to indulge some whim. Today's whim was a visit to the coast on a wild, wintery, wet, wonderful November morning. The waves pummelled the shore and the driving wind almost pinned the doors of the car shut. I forced my way out into the magnificent, howling majesty of it and swayed and staggerred my way to the sea's edge.

It was beyond "bracing" the icy pinpricks of rain nipping into my face and blurring my specs and as I stood at the water's edge I spotted in the distance, maybe a mile offshore, a large cargo ship slowly venturing out into the wilds of the North Sea. I thought about how the crew of that ship were facing the start of their new week. I felt worried for them and their loved ones and at the same time priviledged that I was in the enviable position of being an observer rather than a participant in that particular drama. I hoped whatever they had brought here was really important and whatever they were taking back was just as valuable. It would be a sadness to think they were risking the perils of the deep to bring Nintendo WII's or playstations. It made me think of the Masefield poem

" Cargoes"

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir

Rowing home to haven in sunny Palastine,

With a Cargo of ivory,

And apes and peacocks,

Sandalwood, cedarwood and sweet white wine.

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,

Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,

With a cargo of diamonds,

Emeralds, amethysts,

Topazes, and cinnamon and gold moidores.

Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack

Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,

With a cargo of Tyne coal,

Road-rail, pig-lead,

Firewood, iron-ware and cheap tin trays.

I hope they get home safely and I am full of empathy and admiration for them but in the words of another great British wordsmith, Billy Bragg,

"I'm a hard worker but I ain't workin' on a Monday....

Monday's still the week-end to me."