Life Updates of a Larger Magnitude

I'm pretty stoked about this year's adventure in gardening.  I have no idea if it will survive the summer, but at least we tried.  My goal was to use materials we had around the house, except for soil and seeds.  I wanted to build this because: I'm super absent-minded, and if a veggie garden has any chance of surviving, it needs to be in direct line of sight multiple times a day. Because of #1 above, I also wanted to add a water reservoir capability for when I do space out for a few days. We live in the country, and hopefully this will make it less likely that critters will get in and steal stuff. Ours is a 2'x5' bed, and I decided what to plant using this amazing site.  (Seriously.  Amazing.). So here's how we made it happen... We have a giant pile of scrap wood so first we had to wade through that.  Then we tidied up what was left.  Felt good for the soul! Using some 1x12 for the walls and 4 decking boards (yes, pressure treated)...

I've come to the conclusion I'm achingly, overwhelmingly, (annoyingly) empathetic, and that it is both a gift and a burden.  I basically can't make it through a day without crying about someone else's pain.  Especially when it comes to elderly people.  I've been fascinated (obsessed?) by the fact that we are all going to get old and die.  And by fascinated, I mean in the dictionary sense. Like, "drawn irresistibly to".  As part of this insane entrepreneurial journey, I've been devouring knowledge like a starving person.  There are 2 reasons for that: 1) I feel like a kindergartner when it comes to business and I'm looking to level up. 2) All the vocal successful e-types espouse the virtue of constant learning. I don't know if I believe that's a tenent of success, but I know that it's worked for them so who am I to argue? (I have a more-than-vague feeling they're right.) So while I've been gorging myself on business books an...

On Monday I bought a house from a sweet elderly couple.  At closing, they started telling me about how they moved in the 60s, when their kids were 1,3,5 and 7, and how they had lived their whole lives there, replete with all the memories.  Selling the house to us was very hard, because they were acknowledging the end of... their lives, almost.  The husband is sick and knows he doesn't have much longer, and he wants to make sure his wife gets settled in a place where she will be taken care of.  It was so sad, and not too uncommon a story for my line of work.  When I'm faced with these things, I inevitably hit my "What's the point of this life?" mental soundtrack, and it leaves me feeling hollow and terrified that I'm not doing it right.  And also that it's inevitable.  We get old, our kids grow up, our jobs go away, we see our loved ones die, and then we die.  This is the sadness inside of me.  This is also why some many people turn to religio...