Satisfaction of "Proper" Work

It's my last evening with my parents before I head off to volunteer at the organic farm in Småland. I've been in Sweden for 3 weeks now and time has flown by! First a visit to foodie Lund, then the low carb cruise, then almost two weeks of hard labour in my parents garden.

Ok fine, after spending most of the last 12 years in an office chair, anything that involves a spade, an axe and a sledgehammer is likely to feel like hard labour. Especially since my pride wouldn't let me stop until I finished the project that Cat and I started... Ta-daaa! (Try to contain your excitement.)

The wonder of Skummeslövsstrand: I shall be charging tourists for a glimpse

Lovely brother-in-law Si thinks our terraces look like something from the Tough Mudder obstacle course. Oh well, let's see what magic mamma can work while I'm away. Strawberry plants are a good start.

Digging holes, shifting sand to and fro and picking fights with never-ending root systems has been hard work, but also a surprisingly enjoyable experience. I don't think I've ever willingly exhausted myself like this before and actually enjoyed it. I've enjoyed getting dirt under my nails (and in my hair, eyes and down my cleavage), getting progressively stronger, more stable, more nimble, feeling the sun and wind on my face, hearing the birds and bumblebees around me, seeing my work result in something useful.

Maybe the latter is what brings me the most joy. Being useful. Producing something tangible.