The Two Worlds of A Logger and His Wife

When I can, I like to go ride with him on his machine. The other day I started to see what is right in Elv's line of vision all day, every day.
     Wouldn't this be boring? Piles of logs. Pile after pile after pile. Seven sorts right now. A flat tire today on this new machine. The second one in as many weeks. Odd. So he isn't bored. But I would be. I can't see the sorts like he can. He keeps a measuring device in the cab and hands himself the end of the log swinging in the bucket right up to where he can reach it through the door. I think it is a bolt question. Is that ten inches?

 Here's the home part of my world. On the days that I work, it isn't that much different: organizing, restocking, decorating, and cleaning. And its all about home and making it pretty. I never tire of that. The orange cosmos were planted with plenty of space this spring and now the orange flowers have lots of air and space to dance freely. And they do. So I brought in only a few to spread out among the row of white pitchers on the windowsill to get about the same effect. This morning they're dropping petals on the burlap runner, too. One of the little awesome joys of making a house a home. Doesn't take much to keep me happy, I guess. Go figure.

And a "new" set of dishes at the used shop.  Well, Amy was with me and thought it was a good idea, too.  We brought it home and raked everything off the bottom two shelves and packed some of that into the same boxes that we brought these home in, to be returned to the used shop. Don't ask what all it was, because I won't tell you. Important thing is, when you buy something pretty and inexpensive to bring home to use and to redecorate with, while you're at it, it is a good idea to take something back, too. The logistics of that should be obvious. Especially when things are only things and life is short and I don't have any closets to store those things in as it is. (Please try to not notice those misplaced prepositions and lost verbs, ok? I vote we make a new grammar rule that says we may write in peace with, and stop having to add in the "in which's" and "with which's" just to be correct.)
 His world and my world seem too far apart and lonely sometimes in the summer. The saving grace is that we share one goal and one set of bills and one bed and one house and one Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. So, whereas he spends many hours a day hauling and sorting those boring logs and I do those same repetitious things of homemaking, the day and the week have endings and beginnings for landing and launching and we share that, too. 
We've had arguments about which is most important: the work part of life or the together part of our lives. He would argue that if you don't work and earn money you can't expect to have a place to spend time together period, or pay those mutual bills, for that matter. That's a good point, but I will still say that if you had nobody to look after and no home to live together in, there would be zero point to life at all. I guess we need both to make the world go round. 
And since we are still earth bound we need the dignity of industry. I have a few thoughts about that hatching in my mind to scribble about sometime.