The weather was excellent today: not too hot, not too cold, not too humid, no smoke in the air, no rain, even the earth is hardening; the low bits of the loop don’t pool around my toes while I walk anymore.
Between meetings and a document that’s grown from 0 to 10 pages in a tenth as many days I cleaned out the garage,
I filled the barn with scrap plywood and cherry.
Maybe in a day or two I’ll start on the shop, that’s the whole point, well, that’s not quite true:
Between meetings and a document that’s grown from 0 to 10 pages in a tenth as many days I cleaned out the garage,
I filled the barn with scrap plywood and cherry.
I’m moving one mess to make room for another.
Maybe in a day or two I’ll start on the shop, that’s the whole point, well, that’s not quite true:
I’ve got to make a bed frame, no more mattress on the floor. A bed frame, then, once the wood’s milled, a place to store firewood. Once that’s done I can redo my office. Once that’s done I can start on the Kid’s room. Once that’s done I can make a base for the kichen table. Once that’s done I can redo the kitchen island. Once that’s done it’ll be summer again and I can start sinking posts to hang lights from around the fire pit. Once that’s done I can build a new bridge across the brook. Once that’s done I think my list will be radically different and I won’t know what to do next. Maybe I can make a playground.
Somewhere between all that I hope I can upgrade the shop a little, make a stool maybe, upgrade to a slightly less dumb blog format, who knows, the sky’s the limit.
The things to do on a homestead feel both endless and a little frontloaded. I doubt the pace of things will slow any time soon, but I also feel like there’s an awful lot to do right this very minute.