I know worrying is no good for me. It doesn't accomplish anything, in fact it makes me feel unhealthy, stressed, and probably has all kinds of long-term ill effects that I should be . . . um . . . worried about. See the problem?

We just returned from our Sunday-morning-ritual of walking downtown to the coffee shop, having breakfast and reading the newspaper, and walking home. It's a lovely crisp morning, there were dogs in the park, and I noticed one of the hawks swooping overhead as we got close to home. But Slogger seemed tired, and that makes me worry. Thus the pensive post about worrying. It's ironic, because I'm always on him to lower his stress level. I should take notes on my own lectures.