Can We Talk 2

Never Ending Yard Work, thankfully

         I was back outside this afternoon piling up brush that had been flattened slightly by rain. I ended up breaking off more dead pieces of the butterfly bush. I had not planned for this, so I had no gloves or clippers. But I found it oddly satisfying to stand there in the bright burning sun breaking off these "finished" twigs and branches. I left a big pile of them on the ground. I only quit because the skin on my arms was starting to hurt from the prickly dead twigs.

         I usually complain about the never ending work that needs to be repeated so soon. Today I found myself feeling satisfied and enjoying trimming these branches. I'm beginning to understand a little of why my older friend enjoys pulling weeds. No, I won't go that far. I just understand she gets some satisfaction from it. I was not on the ground, not crawling around, just doing tedious repetitive stuff. My mind was free to wander.

         Maybe work is its own reward. We don't have to have a paycheck or see beautiful results. Just doing the work fills something inside us. If idle hands are the devil's playground, then I was safe this afternoon.