I need to sort my scrap lumber and my salvaged lumber so that I can proceed with getting the "cabin" ready for winter. I don't have to do the sorting chore, but it will make the process so much more organized, easier, and, dare I say, even pleasurable.
But boy it's hard to get motivated to haul boards all over the property and centralize them in the part of the original house that's not weather-proofed (chortle!) but still has a roof on it and is held together by recycled beams, posts, and plaster.
You'd think it's practically thankless work. But when I start, with the radio blaring and organization blooming and the scent of sobriety ripe in the air, momentum, inertia and cumulative progress seem to happen without me even thinking about it, which is key, because when I get into the midst of mindless, thankless work and life begins to move at the speed of time*, I'll look up, and without having thought about it, there are dents in otherwise intimidating piles.
Does that make any sense?
Not to mention the fact that tonight is the season premier of Bachelor Pad, so everybody wins, except for those watching it and on it.
P.S. Bryan Cranston really is enormously talented and looks a lot like Gary Oldman.
*Michael Scott
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Yes it makes perfect sense. The sense of accomplishment is only the beginning when it comes to sorting scrap lumber (coffee cans of screws, oddly stacked glass sheets, various parts of various hardware packages, old frame pieces from 20 year old Larson storm doors that are collecting dust...) A)- You free up apace. 2)- You now know exactly what you have, where it is, and what condition it's in. C)- The tactile experience, the handling of the lumber, gives rise to new ideas as to what you might do with the aforementioned scrap lumber now that it's all in one place.
Here's a scary thought I had this morning: 58 wounded and 12 dead is a slightly above average week of gun related crime in Chicago.
Ride, Sally, ride. What an extraordinary person who never talked about how extraordinary she was.
Our Reality Show Quote Of The Night comes to us directly from "Bachelor Pad", perhaps the most skankiest skeez-fest of them all, where the former Bachelor/Bachelorette stars mix, this season, with super-fans, and let their real hair down. Alexis (or whatever, really) says, upon hearing of the team-up challenge the next morn, and I'm paraphrasing here:
"Partnering up with a fan is, like, letting 'the help' sleep in the bed with you. It's just not... right."
That, my friends, is a well-raised girl, were it Mississippi in 1962.
And coming in at number 2, "Master Chef!!!", "... a slaughterhouse of horrors." Tied with, "... a culinary Thunder Dome."
It's a cooking show, you see. Like Mel Gibson in "Food, Inc.".
Good for you brother. I have a new obsession. American Ninja Warrior. If I were only 20 years younger. If they weren't attracited, I'd lure them with cash.
Well, The Bachelor Pad Elimination Challenge was COUNTING: NO TOES!
It was a tie, but no one could still figure out who won again.
A lot like Armstrong. Could have cashed in on being the first, too much dignity to go that route. She'll forever live in my memory as floating around the orbiter in Zero G with that black hair puffing out to here, smiling a big weightless physicist smile.
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