I suspect that some think that I am the resident slug, which is a woeful individual who is all thumbs and no brains. The truth be known, I routinely take on the smaller, less visible projects. Today’s a good example. I got up and first took the dogs for a walk. Afterwards, I ate breakfast, and at the same time, made a list that I labeled Small Projects. (The capital letters made me feel better about this.)
This list read (in part):
Clean horse and goat pens
Clean horse water buckets
Now I did these things, mainly focusing the bulk of my time on the lower quadrant.
There seems to be no end to small projects, as there will be to building projects. I am these days somewhat concerned about this because I wonder if I’ll be able to continue to keep up with it all. But I tell myself (as I’m doing these things) that I am doing them, meaning, they are getting done. It’s not like I’m sitting in a cubicle and bemoaning the fact that I’m behind on everything.
As I engage in the pretense of work, I think ahead as to what small projects are next. For example, tomorrow I’m going to take apart the old compost station pallets. We’re going to donate the bulk of these to a good cause, the Saturday community picnic and bonfire. And we’re also going to be setting aside some for our own personal use. (They’re made of oak so they’ll burn nicely.) I’m going to take the wire mesh off each and every one of the 50-or-so pallets and put in storage. Pete, who will be working on Big Projects, isn’t going to have time to do this.
The question that some may have is, doesn’t this take time away from writing? The answer is yes. But it also gives me something to write about. Quite often, in the process of writing, that which seems seemingly unimportant becomes important. For instance, here I am, considering the importance of piddly little outdoor labor. At the very least, this makes me feel better about my role in our ongoing property project, most of which, of course, involves my keeping my animals happy. But animal happiness and my role in it – this is the subject of yet another dispatch.
Next: 270. 09/5/12: Doom and Gloom