Now I see you out collecting eggs and slicing off a slab of pork belly in the smokehouse,
Now, you are collecting wood to fire up the stove and shucking off your clodhoppers in the mudroom.
Dusty begins to stir. Scratching and farting he calls your name loudly.
He wants his coffee NOW but you neglected to clean out the clinkers from the stove yesterday and he’s just gonna have to wait. Dusty doesn’t like to wait.
His grumpy tone stirs something deep inside you and you go to wash between your toes. The water is cold but you are not. A feather from the henhouse drifts from your hair down into the tub.
The fire is lit and the coffee is on. A knock on the door. Who the hell can that be? You slip a little on a piece of pork belly fallen, unnoticed onto the floor. Dusty calls your name. More insistent now. You hesitate, torn between your wifely duty and your neighborly courtesy.
Here ends installment one.
You know me well. Obviously, too well.
I’m pretty much all done, minus a decent walkway. The steps are stable. I got the fence done with 3 hours of daylight left. It’s going to be 10F on Thursday. Hopefully I can do something with walkway.
Now I can focus my stress at work lol. I read that if you work more than 40 hours a week it can be bad for your health. Pretty bad study. Didn’t even consider the job. Reg is still alive. So that goes against that study. My work life is much quieter than outside work, so I don’t really agree. I do get depressed if I work over 50 hours a week though.
To my own amazement, yes.
Hot tub looks great. You could paint murals on the walls around it and make it into an outdoor orgy room.
Like a Roman spa?
Nice work Dan.
Thx Will. I’ll keep posted if anything catastrophic happens.
Not to mention rollers and a toothpick.
I can only confirm I’m changing.
I see you pounding violently at a table with a fork in one hand and a knife in the other.
Mud boots. I’m wearing mud boots. I just slopped the pigs.
Nonsense! I don’t know what a clinker is and Dusty would wait until Rapture as long as I don’t make him late.
Ewwww. Toe jam. Nasty!
Riveting! I look forward to page two.
I would wait until Thursday to work on it so you can get a true feel for the weather conditions.
There’s nothing quite like accomplishing a honey-do only to realize it’s time to go back to work.
Yippie. I’m going to outlive you all.
It’s not right that you not, at least, consider it. What if I talk to Reg for you.
I read a study recently that told if you work 60 or more hours a week you will live twice as long as previously believed. Just sayin’, you need to think of your health.
Maybe. I couldn’t sleep last night and was reading Truman Capote. I guess it sparked my creative writing interest. Of course all characters in my story are purely fictional.
No doubt. It was like reading from a children’s book. Really nice work.
Btw, Happy Veterans Day, Will.
While in Medellín I got addicted to sweet mangoes. I found some here in Vancouver. They’re just as good, too. $9 USD per mango. Seriously. I could buy fruit for a week for $9 USD in Medellín. I already miss Colombia.
Life is good. Life is good? Really? No. Life is hard, cruel, unsatisfying, a struggle. I have no satisfaction in having lived the life I lived nor any reason not to believe at my age that it is only going to get worse. It already is. I have not lived a good life but it is only apparent in hindsight.