I’m breaking my normal Sunday morning silence to celebrate an early Father’s Day gift. I’ve been complaining for years about the ramshackle state of my Little House back porch, where I used to get a lot of work (and non-work) done, and had finally stopped visiting it altogether.
But recently I rediscovered the charm of its location: woodsy privacy just far enough from the big house, away from the hum of central air conditioning, out of neighbors’ visual range, etc.
So, my last several posts have been made physically precarious and literally out of square.
But this morning, thanks to the surprise arrival yesterday of a couple of skilled hired carpenters hauling a load of fresh pine, I’m back on the level. Literally, anyway. My stoa is restored, better than it was before.
Thanks, family! Sometimes it’s still good to be Dad.