If life consists of small victories, then I achieved one yesterday. A victory so small as to go unnoticed by anyone but me, and you, now that I’m telling the tale. But I suspect it is exactly the sort of victory we all achieve at one point or another as we try to get along in this life. The sort of victory that makes us feel like winners, if only for a minute or a day. So, what did I do? I reorganized the junk drawer in the utility room.

It’s the drawer of the tools, and nails, and screws, and bits of wire, and wire nuts, and toggle bolts, and Velcro, and every other odd and end that has no other place to go in the house. It’s the drawer we turn to when it’s time to hang a picture, tighten a screw, measure a bit of something. And now mine is tidy and I can see everything at a glance. The little nails and screws have their own containers. The Velcro is in a Ziploc. The drawer closes without complaint.

Buoyed by the junk drawer victory, I calmly went outside and set the two new fence posts, as if I knew what I was doing. I ran a line, found the centers, leveled up the tubes, leveled the 4X4s, shoveled in the dirt, poured in the concrete. This morning I’ll water in the fill, add more dirt, and wait for things to set. I have patience. If there’s a mistake, I’ll adjust. I am calm. I am cool. I am collected. I am a man with an organized junk drawer. Ask me for anything, and I will reach in and get it.