Sweeping, raking, mopping, washing dishes these things I do not mind. They involve simple repetitive actions that free the mind to reflection. Today Archer, Jaiken and I gathered the yard’s straw; I raked piles, they gathered the needles into their wagon, and pushed and pulled it to the street. Upon dumping it they piled themselves into the wagon and dumped themselves into the pile.
I tend to remember raking experiences for a long time. I can remember epic rakings for neighbors at age eight, enormous piles, hours spent raking, minutes spent destroying the hours of raking, followed by rerakings with that satisfied autumn glow. This is unusual because while raking I did not consider once what I was doing, but was rather lost in my own thoughts, yet, I have no recollection of any thoughts or ideas I had while raking. I can’t even remember today what captivated me, what thought paths I traveled for the hour or so of work.
I’ve long denied the difference between physical labor and “nonphysical” labor, as all labor, even computation astropoetical defigurations, is physical, but there is a difference between mental or social labor and manual labor. Manual labor scuffs your hands. So today I’m blistered and regardless of how much is actually accomplished a day where blisters are made and blisters are rubbed off is a good day.