Mondays and January make me think "I can" Sundridge Gillian Thomas 384-5271 Monday morning blues and January blahs! One hears about these all the time, although a lot of glory goes to weekends, Friday and Saturday. Yet for me, Monday mornings tingle. With the rest of the week still to come, my hopes to start and complete plans and projects hatched on Sunday can still be hopes. There is a sense that I have all the time in the world. Those finger-stained windows would definitely be done; likewise that basket of mending and the sanding of the window seat. I should with ease be able to visit a couple of friends, clean the garage and write a few letters. My eldest has been wanting and wanting to visit a farm; I'll do that, too. And of course, there is oodles of hours to write, type my article and get it in before the deadline. So like Mondays, January, number one month of the year gives me that limitless illusion. I would have the time to knit a sweater for each immediate family member by the year's end. With the help of the "Milk Calendar", I will be able to add a new recipe to my menu each month. And books â€" I could eat my way through at least 10. In January, spring is yet to come and so is summer. It's going to be the perfect summer. And in beautiful fall, I'm going to cut down my schedule and so enjoy a daily walk, or an every-other-day walk in the woods. In all those months, I shall surely get all my cupboards and drawers sorted out. The hallway re-papering will be a cinch. Mountains of time is there for me to take tennis lessons in the summer, to keep me in top athletic form after easily managed twice-weekly, cross-country skiing expeditions in the winter. Oh January, my birthday is many months away! Now, I haven't said I'd get all these things done, but Mondays and January certainly make me think I can.