From 11 AM to nightfall, I danced my last session with the deck removal with my partners of a shovel, a crowbar, a sledgehammer and, for just a number or two, a reciprocating saw. And there was lifting. LOTS of lifting. Early on, I began my wood plank pile atop the wooden ramp, not thinking its removal was an immediate concern, and it wasn't—THAT day. Moving a couple of wood piles 10-15 away can feel like a bit of an empty dance, though it was resolved as the training montage from Rocky IV.

Though I have wood in the fire cave and piles queued for departure, like yesterday's post, I remain at a crossroads for 2021. In context, I write from a desk I built out of scrap 2x4's and a quarter sheet or so of premium plywood that is laid inset into the frame. It was something I tinkered on with Sketchup, joinery and all, before bringing it to life a few years ago.

One of the best scents in life can be found walking through the lumber section of a home improvement store. It just feels good to create.

I have no problems with dismissing another man's treasure entirely. If junk has worn its welcome, then it's got to go! However, if I choose the path of the woods, then all of that reclaimed wood is a feast!

But...To What End? Oh how those three words have vexed my life!