gonna die with my hammer in my hand

Indecision led to what I'm doing now, and I suppose that's ok because building helps me think.

We fix houses for people that can't afford it.

This was the 2nd worst mobile home I've ever seen. Georgia Johnson spent her life savings raising 22 foster children over a period of 40 years, never having any of her own. Her husband's sudden death left her with nothing, and health problems led to her nigh imprisonment in a trailer that I had trouble even entering because of the rotten steps. The roof was caving in and the plumbing hadn't worked in a year. Extension cords ran all over the house from the single working outlet and her house was heated by turning on the oven. 25 volunteers and I cleaned and painted her house, fixed the electricity and plumbing, and replaced her porch and stairs.

Working at a non profit I've gotten used to hearing stuff like "draw up blueprints" even though I have no experience in engineering / architecture. This ramp is what I came up with and built this week, and it's let Georgia leave her house independently for the first time in years, which I definitely got a big kick out of seeing.

Don't get me wrong, I'm no idealist, and I suppose that alienates me from most of you, dear readers. To me, rebuilding is an act of defiance-- staving off the inevitable entropy towards which we are all speeding. I enjoyed seeing a community come together and give dignity to a woman that has gone by unnoticed for far too long, but will probably remain that way.

If any of you are interested in getting involved, drop me a line. It doesn't matter where you are, we're everywhere. I'll be damned if I can remember where I call home these days.