Working Man
I get up at seven yeah, I go to work at nine; Got no time for livin' yes, I'm working all the time." - Neal Peart As we recently passed our one-year mark on the island, I found myself looking fondly back on our first weeks on the island. Specifically, I was laughing about when Davin and I first came down and started working on the property; two pie-eyed, pale-faced city slickers who came down and thought they knew what they were doing. I laughed about how we were running around in flip flops chopping trees down with a dull machete , pulling drywall down with crowbars , and making scaffolding out of ladders and tables . I remembered on our 27th trip through Do-It Center, scratched, sun-burned, and demoralized. As we walked through the store, Davin pointed out a guy we had seen a couple of times previously. He strode confidently through the store, work boots on, keys jangling on a carabiner clip, with a pencil tucked effortlessly behind his ear. He exuded...