This fall has been cool and dry, so I’ve been taking every opportunity to work outside.

One of my oddest chores has been efforts to remove chicken wire from the back yard fence. Abby had originally installed it to keep in her Chihuahua Gabby, but we reinforced it when we had goats. The problem with chicken wire is that you can’t run a string trimmer on the grass at the fence, since it will shred the string.

As time passed, grass and vines grew between the fence and the chicken wire, and since I don’t have goats or small dogs in the back yard, I decided to rip out the chicken wire and pull up the vines and grass.

It’s been a lot of work, and that equals a lot of movement, a lot of fresh air, and a lot of steps.

It is a task, and it has purpose.

Tonight I felt bad for people who run on treadmills while lawn care companies cut their grass. I felt bad for the wealthy, who drive giant SUVs to the gym while housekeepers clean their homes.

I know those are all choices, and I also know some of those choices are made for us. Tonight, though, and many nights, I work hard, and thrive on task and purpose.