There’s something very gratifying about physical labour. The delicious feeling of comfort as you lay down and straighten those legs at day’s end. A cotton mattress thrown on the floor serves as an indulgence as sleep steals over my eyes…
There’s a little getaway place we have, tucked away at an hour’s drive from home. It’s been a while since we came here and the place was predictably not fit to stay. A couple of hours and some happy work later, it was clean and cheerful. Oftentimes, I find myself humming a tune (on a repeat loop) as I bustle about. Perhaps a vestige of ancient ancestors working the paddy fields and singing to make it less back breaking.
Little K got her paints and brushes and got started on a new piece, a leisurely mosaic. S is happy to be the man around the place, getting things fixed up. As for me, it’s the old pleasures of working with my hands.
P.S. No connectivity so a slew of backlog posts today. 😊