Joy In The Doing

I like projects, especially ones that require old-fashioned physical labor; painting, hauling wood, stacking bricks? Besides getting things done, I end up with toned arms and a clear head, so I've concluded it's like going to the gym with a therapist, sorta.

This pretty pile of bricks originated from Main Street Jukebox, a local music store in downtown Stroudsburg that burned down a few years back. The buildings that caught on fire were old, and beautiful. The fire left a gaping hole in the center of Main Street.

Michael and I had the idea to add onto our brick patio out back. And build a labyrinth. So, we negotiated a price and ended up with a dump truck full of historic bricks in our front yard. We've been working our way through them ever since.

First, we tackled the labyrinth out front, cleaning bricks, then laying them in a spiral through a tall stand of pines. We didn't do it in one day. It took a while. But we got it done, one brick at a time.

It must've been the crisp air tonight that started us digging where we want to lay this next stack of bricks. Claire had the hoe, Michael was using a pick to loosen the soil, I filled the wheelbarrow with rocks. Claire was speaking all twangy like Michael's cousins from Louisville; we had a pretend farming moment. It was fun.

I used to feel a lot of frustration with projects that weren't finished around my house. But that's shifting. Now I'm seeing them as family time, or date night, or alone time; a meditation on life, asking each of us to simply do what's before us, and take joy in the doing.