Very, very busy. Good busy. Sleep-when-the-head-hits-the-pillow busy.
Walking 2.5 to 3.5 miles every morning. Up and down hills. With a stroller.
Lifting weights: bags of soil and retaining-wall blocks. Putting them on hand-truck. Putting them in vehicle. Taking them out of vehicle. Carrying them up slanted yard (putting in a garden on slopey property -- my project).
Digging. Lots of digging.
And cleaning. Parents bought a 55-year-old home around the corner from me. Lots of grime. Dirt. Webs. And carpet laden with black mold that needed to be ripped out.
The thing is I LOVE THIS WORK. I have to be careful because I will go and go and go.
And not drink water.
And not plan my meals. Or at least not follow through with the plan, grabbing a fast food meal instead.
So, I'm maintaining.
I found another love, too. I should be ashamed of myself. We met last week.