...And we're back. It's been awhile.
This current update of the old "Dead 'N' Berryed" is brought to you by the Greek Letter I can't find on this keyboard that represents 'Delta.'
Which implies a change. A transition. Metamorphosis. To some, smoke and mirrors.
I suppose I'm tired of being a residential builder, building things, but only because I'm getting older, and - reluctantly - wiser. The market has completely fallen out on new construction. The dedicated builder-guys I know have been doing remodels and repair jobs for the last 2 years. Me too. Nothing new is being attempted here, in the Seattle area.
Physically, it's getting tougher. My sinew feels the decades. Old joints creak, lifting power shrinks a bit all the while. The weather and Nature's chaos foreshadow just what shocks you might have to take - cold, mold, wind, rot, pollen, live wires, raccoon shit - but still dole out whatever whim seems perfectly inappropriate. Sheeting the roof? Windstorm. Always. Pouring a slab? Rain. Wanna paint? Cold spell. Merde occurs. Remodel is hell. Dust knows no bounds. It will end up in your lungs, if you're breathing. (Fact: Most people do breathe. Forget where I read that.)
The center doesn't hold.
What's the solution - hell, what's the question? (Is this a quiz? Damn, I've had few beers.)
Episode IV: A New Hope
We all have learned in our own lives that there are tricks to any speciality. (Cue music.)
Oh, tricks. I LOVE them.
Chisels love to cut with the grain, so I try to do that. The wood gives and you can almost hear a sigh of submission. Sweet. Notches want to BE.
If you can get directly underneath a huge load, you can move it. Twenty-foot-long 6x6 pole? (I'm lucky...I look good doing it.)
No one had an 'easy' childhood. Going from 2 cells to fifty trillion in 20 years is exhausting. You need sleep, and gravy. Lots of gravy.
And stimulus. Work. Travel. Diversion. Play. Interests. Romance. SOMETHING. People need something. (Damn, I'm brilliant.) Jim Morrison basically said that people need 'something sacred.' Without a sacred something, I think there's a 'want.'
I'm in that group. I want. I'm a wanter.
I have my memories, of awesome travel, great jobs, cool clients, tasty food, wonderful times. But I still want. I don't have the job 'I Was Born For.' I love people, but work with wood, steel, gypsum, tools. I love languages, and foreign culture - but concrete is silent. I crave an audience in my work life, but my 'friends' are occupied by others now.
I'm starting this again to remind myself that I used to like to write - to word-process, to assemble words within a construct - and think of strange things.
Building is no longer strange to me.
I'm diving into the deep end of the pool.
See you there.
Nice swim!
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