i was going to post a particular entry from the blog rude pundit (warning:this blog can be rather graphic and raunchy, and agressively anti-bush), but i missed the date, and so i’ll just include the link to the blog. i find that, although even i can get a little disgusted with the imagery sometimes, i usually agree with him. anywho.
i was out splitting wood over the weekend, and on one hand, i was so glad to be doing an activity that i love doing (nothing compares to the feel of the axe coming to rest solidly in the chopping block as the halves of the log fall, perfectly spilt, to the side.), i was frustrated at how little i could do. i used to spend the afternoon happily splitting, and now it’s 15 minutes. at this rate, i should have the year’s firewood all split and stacked by spring.
i know, at least i’m able to do those 15 minutes, and i should be happy for that. i am- things could so easily be worse. they probably will be at some point down the road, and i will look back on the ability to do 15 minutes of labor, or walk hard for 10 minutes, and wonder how i could have been frustrated by it. when i get there, i’ll deal with it. right now, i’m working on dealing (constantly, it seems) with the frustrations of today.