These last couple of days have been heavenly. I shake my head and whisper, through smiling lips, I am just so happy. I am in overalls or shorts all day, wheelbarrowing, squatting and lifting heavy stones, on my hands and knees rolling and taming wild-haired left-over chicken wire, plotting and planning and making changes. My body aches in the morning from outdoor effort instead of from hunching over a sewing machine or getting a bad night's sleep. It is tight and sore but stronger. Bruised, scraped, dirty and beautiful. And I can't help noticing that this life, this version of myself, this version of my days, is very natural and very easy. I don't have to force myself into the yard. Or wonder if building a larger chicken coop is worth my time. I just do, all day until the light has left. In contrast, my life as a designer is hard. It is so difficult to confine myself to the studio, to put in the hours, to isolate. It is not the wrong profession for me but there might be a more right way to do it.

This is why we take vacations! How else would we find the perspective to question the pillars of one's life! Jah ras!

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