There is an element of off-grid life that under certain circumstances does sometimes seem difficult to distinguish from masochism. My cramping right calf told me all through the first half of the morning climb that I don’t get enough exercise.
Sigh. Every single morning. Stairs?
And there are compensations. After I cleaned out the litterbox, picked up the dog shit, fed and watered and checked planting soil and generally did the chore, I got to sit down in a cool pleasant courtyard and play St. Francis to a couple of lovestarved dogs, who were loving it.
And of course it buys me the privilege of living here…