So when last I wrote, I said I needed a plan. Are you wondering how that worked out for me? About what you probably expect during the holiday rush. I made a plan, but as Robert Burns said “the best laid plans…..”
My plans did not work as well as I hoped, and I averaged three days a week. And it was mostly yoga. The benefits of that was less stress and more stretch! So now, like many others, I am planning my triumphant return. Or at least a return to running.
Mother Nature, of course, has been gentle all season but now that I want to get back out there, the weather is returning to the norm for the season. We are expecting our first major snow/sleet storm tomorrow. Guess I will be working on the treadmill!
Wondering where that phrase, the best laid plans, comes from? Me too! Turns out, it is a very cute little poem…if you ignore the deeper thought of our mortal thoughts, that is 😉
Wee, sleekit, cowran, tim’rous beastie,
O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi’ bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee,
Wi’ murd’ring pattle!
I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave ‘S a sma’ request:
I’ll get a blessin wi’ the lave,
An’ never miss’t!
Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It’s silly wa’s the win’s are strewin!
An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s winds ensuin,
Baith snell an’ keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an’ wast,
An’ weary Winter comin fast,
An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro’ thy cell.
That wee-bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou’s turn’d out, for a’ thy trouble,
But house or hald.
To thole the Winter’s sleety dribble,
An’ cranreuch cauld!
But Mousie, thou are no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men,
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!
Still, thou art blest, compar’d wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,
On prospects drear!
An’ forward, tho’ I canna see,
I guess an’ fear!
–Robert Burns, 1785