It took eight years to build my first birdhouse, pictured above—my second one took 30 minutes yesterday. The time difference is a testament to procrastination and the machinations of my wandering mind. It is true that many of the early years were limited to a singular action: writing a new year’s resolution–“build a birdhouse.” As I have noted in prior posts, most of my resolutions are forgotten by February. Ah, how the written word provides temporary cover. And once I had put the first house together, I bought paint for it. The sales date on the small green jar is proof that a year passed before I opened it. So, there is simple euphoria here now that I can put a birdhouse together in my sleep. Time to wake up!