staggered, in the vineyard

The last couple of weeks have taken on quite a blurry quality.
Not much is standing out right now.
I have been navigating from backyard to building, through rain and shine and at all hours of the week.
Hacking through weeds. Digging up asphalt. Shovelling and then raking and then dumping and then hauling and then filling and then backfilling that same mountain of screening in and out of various holes; and into and out of a grumpy but otherwise willing Franco.
And I've been doing it all with a peaceful calm. For the most part.
Start in the morning, skip lunch and do it until its done. And even though it's never done, sooner or later you turn around and realize you've gotten somewhere and created something beautiful. Another something to look at. Another somewhere to be.
I got a really nice feeling when my brother and I picked out that perfect little Japanese Ivory Silk tree - just realizing that I might be lucky enough to watch it grow for the next twenty five years. It was almost the same feeling I got the night before when the three of us were out in the backyard, finally planting the garden by the portable spotlight. Like we were the coolest kids on the block.