It’s a crummy day here at Joel’s Gulch, overcast and cool and blow you on your ass windy, and the boys and I were resigned to just hanging around the Lair when the phone rang. Neighbor D asked “You want to make $20?” Seems another neighbor had sold a bunch of railroad ties, lined up two burly young men to move them for her, and then one never showed. Immediate opening, pays twenty bux.
Sigh – okay. We also walk dogs, I guess. Beggars can’t be et c.
Railroad ties. 20 of them, to be precise. You know how much a railroad tie weighs? How did those guys ever build a transcontinental railroad without cranes? I’ve never in my life been so happy to see dry rot. But the old one-legged guy kept up with the burly guy to the end – in fact I daresay I set the pace – and if my head was aching and my back was singing soprano by the end he didn’t have to know about it. We got 20 ties neatly stacked on a trailer and I got paid, and now for lunch. I may not have a lot of it, but I’ve still got it.
Employment is where you find it.
Them dang things are HEAVY Joel. My hats off to you.