As I was putting the last screws in the fence, the dusk was changing to dark. The clangor of the drill ceased and I could hear nothing, and everything all at once…..
Nothing cures the inside and the outside of us quite like hard work, sweat, blisters that turn to calluses and the sight of your creation made by your blood, sweat and tears.
The older I get, the more I see why my Dad would bow his head, shrug his shoulders and paw in the air with that tough scarred, callused hand – and say one of two things “F**k ’em” or “don’t bother, it’s like talking to a post”
At the end of the day, all you have is you – so you better love on yourself. Enjoy your company and find solace in your life.
If you live in a concrete jungle, I invite you to dance vicariously through my life and find joy in the little things. Perhaps you live in the country? Or on a ranch. Join me and share tales of adventures across highway 40, the back 40 or somewhere in between.
Know that I am your sister in prosperity and together, if we join hands in quality not quantity, we all will survive to wake another day.