I like going into my back lots at night and looking at the stars. It’s dark in the lots and we’re still country enough that light pollution is at a minimum. So, the night sky is starlit. I also like checking in on my little porch bird, huddled up at the top of its pole, sound asleep. I can also count the cats in their warm spots around the yard and in the bushes. Making night rounds. Keeping my charges safe.

It used to be something I did on the way to bed after the kids and the wife were asleep. Now I do it at the odd hours when I find myself stirring from my slumbers for all the reasons old people wake up. Hot. Cold. Anxious. Not sleepy. It’s the time of my life of the two-part night. Fall asleep. Wake up. Fall asleep again. Sometimes there’s a cup of chamomile tea in the wake up. But usually a sit on the couch, or a stroll on the porch does the trick.

Speaking of sleep, my little shed project has got me feeling like a farmer. I get up at first light, work all day, and go to bed at dark. Although, that’s not precisely true because dark comes too early for bed. But trust me when I say, I’m ready. Of course, my muscles are wondering what’s up. I forgot yesterday how heavy a 12-foot two-by-six can be. Suffice it to say, however, that I understand levers and fulcrums, so it was a temporary setback. Today, I continue framing the roof. Progress. Slow and steady, an old man’s pace, who’s happy for the work.