May. 2nd, 2016

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My fitness app tells me that I exercised for six and a half hours yesterday, though that doesn't seem enough; that I walked 30,000 steps; that I only covered twelve miles of ground.

Nothing really adds up, until you take another perspective on the day: that I worked - with breaks - from ten in the morning to ten-thirty in the evening, and those steps were entirely back-and-forth and up and down.

People, we moved a garden.

Happily, it was a garden already in pots; and happily we'd done an afternoon's groundwork the day before, clearing the alley beside the house and putting shelves and such into the truck. Still: it was a big truck, and a crowded garden. Between the shelves and the racks and the hanging rods, we filled that truck from floor to ceiling with biomass, and drove it half an hour and emptied it again (that's where the up-and-down came in, for there were fifteen steps down to the sunside patio, and half the garden loves the sun). Then we went back to the point of origin, and filled the truck again. Just at the point where a British party would have said "I could murder a curry," Karen came through with dim sum; and then we went back to the new house and unloaded the second half of the garden. In the dark.

I am tired today, and a little bit achey.

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