Stoned

The winning sculpture at the 2019 Texas Sand Sculpture Festival

Praise Jesus and pass me some more of them there inspirational cookies!  I got stoned on wood stacking yesterday. 

Last week when I did two cords, I thought I would die. It felt like eternal damnation. But yesterday was a total joy. I took two short breaks and one longer one at lunch, but I stacked wood diligently from 9:00 until 3:30 and got over a cord and a half stacked. I’ve hardly any to do today.

I could feel the muscles in my shoulders and back as I worked; I felt like solid steel. I can’t remember the last time I felt so good about my physical wellbeing. I did not want to stop when I did, but I wanted to shower and get to the store before the end of their day. I was not at all tired. I loved doing the work.

I took pleasure in how I took wood from the pile in the driveway, slowly “pruning” it back evenly all the way around it. And I stacked thoughtfully. I sorted as I stacked, too. I stacked the smallest pieces together. I could honestly say I enjoyed myself all day and that’s a huge shift from a week ago! 

Now I’m not al all concerned about cords #5 and #6 that come next week. There’s rain predicted for next week though (thank God), so I’m not sure when I’ll get the wood delivered. I don’t want it on a wet day.

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I’m gad I walked with Sheba before the wood came and had a spa. Both activities brought optimal thoughts into my head; on both occasions, and frewuently on most days, it occurs to me that I am the luckiest or most-blessed person in the world. 

I know I’m not, but I feel as though I am because of where and how I live. And what an irony, that this miraculous outcome is the result of a mental “collapse.” (I never have seizures any more; I’m too happy.)