Today I helped my dad and a few others pack up the church, a role I had no idea I had volunteered for until my mother told me so. The church has been expanding over the last year and can no longer fit into its previous quarters, and therefore the gathered church members had to roll all the fragiles up in newspaper and stack all the chairs and clean all the windows (inside and out) and put everything into storage; and only then could we clap the dust from our palms and head off into the midday sun (which was, by the way, hidden behind white, expansive, clouds) for a good bit of rest.
But not me. I had to feed Cool Hand Luke, and I had run out of worms and so spent the next hour on my hands and knees in the dirt, digging up my uncle's garden and hoping for the love of peace that I hadn't killed his lilac bush with that last bit of shoveling.
I'm thinking I'll start a worm farm and then I wouldn't have to go through this trouble every day or so.