Saturday, August 4, 2018

Stacking

(L-R) Me, Bill, who read my script, Bruce, my close buddy, Annabel,
Caryn and Bernard—all long time dear theatre friends.

Friday was a killer. I was the walking dead from 4:00 o’clock till bedtime. And my night was torture—I had to keep getting out of bed and stretching my legs because I had crippling cramps in my arms and legs from all day’s work.
Two-and-a-half cords of wood arrived Friday morning at 8:30—is a huge  pile of wood! I had to bend and pick up every piece to put it in the wheelbarrow. Then I had to pick it up again and either lift it up onto the pile or bend again to put it on the ground. It’s paradise when the pile is waist high and I have to neither lift nor bend.
I’m seventy and fey. This is just too manly for me. Truly: Thank God for my spa!
Zen and the art of wood stacking and schlepping: I thought of each wheelbarrow load as three or four evening fires; I thought of not having to do this, or covering the wood, in winter. I took pride in my diligence and kept thinking about the sap I’d be having at my break. 
I got it all finished except about one quarter of a cord that I’ll do this morning and a large pile of misfit pieces of wood that I will stack separately to use in the studio.
Dr. Bob sells wood each summer so I will put in an order for another six cords next year. I have finally found someone “normal” with whom to do my wood business. No more men peeing in my yard. And Jeff, his delivery boy, is courteous and runway hot.
All the wood was dumped where my vegetable garden will be going next year so next time I’ll be schlepping the wood even farther. I wonder about doing all this at age eighty. Thank goodness for the spa.
I’m going to get right to the wood this morning, while it’s cool. When I finish, Her Highness gets a bath and hair cut at the doggie spa while I read New Yorkers  with a Diet Coke and nice sugary snack in the sunshine somewhere to celebrate being finished with the wood and the tidying of m’lady.
This afternoon I’ll get caught up on domestic chores ignored during all the stacking and tonight—rest!

















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