Home Work
It’s a lovely morning in the neighborhood. The sun is out, the birds are singing, there’s dew on the grass. The air is cool and kind. I’m in a good mood. I have a slightly sore finger from the prick of Mesquite thorn. I started trimming a tree yesterday and got careless. But overall, I feel fine, and I’m doing the best I can to maintain that spirit.
In addition to tree trimming, I also worked on a bad situation with a gutter downspout. Its discharge needs to be directed away from the house. The repair required me to dig up a Turks Cap, and that my friends is a chore, because plants needing little moisture put down big roots, and the Turks Cap holds on for dear life. But I prevailed with patience and the tools of Archimedes, a lever and a place to stand.
It seems the home repair spirit is moving within me once again. I’m glad because I like working with my hands. It was how I kept myself centered in my youth and throughout my marriage. I built things and fixed things. Fences, patios, porches, bookshelves, gardens, trellis’s, cars, plumbing, water wells. You name it, I did it. Working with your brain is fine, but physical work gives me balance and helps me sleep better at night. It makes me feel grounded and well-rounded.