To underestimate the value of pop culture risks being disconnected from your peers especially in the future when friends are dispersed and shared experiences when young gain emotional value. I painted a rail fence today (and yesterday). After painting for about an hour, I heard inside my heard, “Wax on. Wax off.” I bet money that everyone of my peers knows this phrase and the movieĀ  of it’s origin. I deliberately painted 20% of the time with my left hand, but the “need for speed” to paint in the increasingly blistering sun outweighed the need to employ balance with my arms and hands. I will pay for this tomorrow, when I can barely hold my hair brush.

My current residence is a shambles. I am packing. Boxes have risen and now block the egress out onto the patio. If there is a fire that blocks the front door and garage exit, I will be climbing out a window because the wall of Two Men & A Truck boxes is a great advertisement. I have packed deliberately and carefully. Unlike the last few times I was packing to simply get going, this pack is a period of discernment. What do I really want to carry forward into my new home? What have I been carrying that I am now comfortable letting go? What have I dutifully packed and carried to this point that I can now relinquish?

Some people are hoarders. I am not. I am not a pack rat. I am also not a lumper. People are either lumpers or sorters. I am a sorter. I would be that insane secretary with a bizarre filing system that makes absolute sense to me but possibly few others. I pack the same way. It will make unpacking easy and less stressful. Plus, where I am going I shall be for a long time. It is already home. If it takes me a week or a month to full unpack and settle, no matter. It is already home. I stood at the back fence line painting, accompanied by the mockingbirds, and it felt like a lazy Sunday with my home in the background. There was no radio, no A/C units humming, the occasional car or truck driving SR 235 could be heard in the distance.

All I needed was a working toilet. The noon day sun and nature calling prompted me to end my painting. It is my goal to get this house built without ever having to step inside the Port-O-Potty, especially mid day in nearly 100F heat. Having goals are important.

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