So here I am, sitting on a picnic chair, sleeping in a truck that's older than me each night and building a house with Dad. Yeah let us pretend for five seconds that I'm doing much.
Here's a story for you: A while ago, Mom recognized that she was overweight and worked to fix this. She is now an example for hard workers everywhere because over two years later, last time I checked, she has lost over fifty pounds and can lift over two hundred pounds. Meanwhile, I'm having trouble lifting two by fours.
...as a general rule, Mom was right, I need to life weights.
So how is the house coming along, you may be asking my audience of probably, like, three people. Well, first we put down the pylons. The house rests on those, and wooden posts built off of those hold up the floor, and earlier today we placed the final wall. Now they aren't complete walls, just boards that plywood can be tacked onto. But they're up. Honestly, I thought getting those walls up would kill me, holding those up is a nerve-wracking job for somebody who isn't pumped full of anxiety. But I live!
...I mean, my arms are still tired, but I guess that counts as living.
In other news, this is something that happened that isn't worth it's own post. On our way into town, we saw a work truck pulled over at the intersection where our road meets the main one. Upon further inspection, the stop sign that normally stands there was completely flattened, and the top of it was several feet away in the ditch. It appears that somebody hit it squarely while going way, way to fast.
Somebody did not stop xD
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