Aching hands

Since Monday I've been hard at work on the writer's studio. My hands aren't used to the carpenter's life as they once were. The hammer grows heavy and the wood seems so much heavier than in years past. The wood must have taken on the perverse physical qualities of rooms known in childhood. Those rooms, when revisited as adults, have shrunk in size. The wood has grown heavier and it must be on account of the change in climate. The trees, in an attempt to solve global warming have been working harder and harder to absorb more and more of the excess carbon. While a single carbon atom weighs little, trillions upon trillions add up to an enormous mass, thus weighing down the trees. (Local evidence of this phenomena was experienced in the great ice storm that came throught Fort Wayne. The trees broke apart, not only from the weight of the ice, but also of the weight of the excess carbon atoms.) But despite the increased heftiness of the wood, I'll slog on. The walls are up. Two are covered. The roof is expected to go on before tomorrow's rain. I may be taking a hiatus when the weather goes wet. Photos may be forthcoming.