Well assuming anyone would want to I have heard it is one bite at a time. This comes to mind as I drill and chisel away in my garage as my neighbors walk by and peer over at me to see what their deranged neighbor is doing. Occasionally one will stop and ask but for the most part they just look over. This is a very small percentage because I have many neighbors. About a hundred more than I am comfortable with. Anyway I have decided maybe to tell them I was building and ark like the guy in the movie. Although several answers do come to mind I just tell them the truth and they proceed on their way. I fantasize about hanging a gun on my belt, putting a chew of tobacco in my mouth, wearing a patch over my eye and doing some thing weird like talking to myself to stir up the rumors. Wait a minute, I'm already talking to myself! I surely would like to know what their thinking. I've been doing this so long I am sure they give directions by saying "go a few houses past where the guy is always cutting wood." or something like that. It is usually strange to see anyone outside in the neighborhood except for the occasional walkers, dog walkers and a few bike riders sporting the latest attire probably designed by the latest Tour De France winner. Mostly all people down here do is eat out and shop. It is rare you see a neighbor cutting his own grass. I guess it would mean you didn't have anything better to do or don't have the money to pay someone else. This is mainly the reason every day is a parade of workers driving buy the house as they head to their next job to repair some broken item, clean a pool or scope out their next job. It is this reason I don't leave my tools out because items have been known to just walk away at times. I know this because there is a nice socket set of mine who has a new owner or maybe sitting in a pawn shop somewhere waiting for one. I digress, back to the bikers. Although I admire them for what they do I just get extremely bored riding the bike in the neighborhoods in Florida. I guess that's what they think about me as I sit in my garage and driveway pounding away at my Cypress wood.
I do feel as if I am getting better and faster at cutting joints but as I look at my pile of wood with hopeful expectations that it will all fit together nicely someday, I get a daunting feeling building up inside as I look ahead at what I have left to do. Like the martial artist I slowly become one with my chisel, well maybe 50 or so but at least I'm better than I use to be and somewhat closer to they day when I assemble my massive pile of wood into a small but very unique and sturdy barn/studio/greenhouse or whatever it turns out to be. If it doesn't work, I'm building a fire!
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