The Free Verse of Project Management
I have a pal named Jackson. Jackson is a poet. One rainy day in Lynchburg, a few of us huddled over coffee, writing impromptu poetry and talking shop. He took an idea, and pushed the bounds of it beyond word choice, to lines connecting pages, words scribbled on margins, little pictures, all in neon orange. I looked up in wonder from my English-garden uptight scrawl, changed.
I saw him last night at the writing group, and he brought a subtle version of the subversion in to read.
He’s partly the inspiration of the format today. It’s interactive. Click on the links and read the memes.
Partly Cloudy on Long Mountain
Blink.
Blink.
Tick.
Tock.
Actually, not. The clock needs to be wound. Hang on a moment, your call is very important to us…
Thank you for holding. Have you checked Twitter lately?
Yikes.
What’s that growly sound? Ah, yes, a dump truck is trundling through the back field. (‘Round here, we call that Wednesday.) The creek got unruly a few weeks ago, so there’s dirt and gravel and rocks and digging.
I’m a bit blurry today from getting up slightly early to meet the mason down in a field. That sounds like a ritualistic thing, but his name is Alberto, and he does block and brick work. You see, folks, I’m getting my ducks in a row, and doing a preliminary count on unhatched chickens. There are notes and plans and figures scratched in hipster fountain-pen and library-swag ballpoint.
It’s house-building time. Possibly.
To make a long story short, I lived by a forest in Maryland. Now I don’t.
The real estate market is crazy here, too. And the waiting for something to happen is not my style.
Uline has some nice options.
https://www.uline.com/Grp_9/Corrugated-Boxes-200-Test
I actually thought of these:
Someone said THIS wasn’t practical:
Stepping away from railroad solutions and corrugated paper, a modular house might be doable. Might be.
So I’ve been on the phone to find out. For a long time.
But the calls are actually fun. Progress is good. It feels nice to dig in. (And I’m trying to dial back that radio voice to sound more serious. It’s not going so well.)
“This is Guy Smiley, calling you to get a best price that I know you can afford to give!”
There’s the basement to figure out. Did you know it costs about $13 to put a cinderblock in (per block)? That’s what Alberto said at the lot this morning. He was sleepier than me, having been up all night to help an employee who got robbed uptown. Then he almost got walloped leaving the build site this morning. The other neighbor was quick on the brakes, thought. Whew.
I’m waiting on concrete estimates, the well drillers to call back, and the power company to visit tomorrow. Sheds are expensive. Basements are shaping up to be more expensive.
A haiku…
Numbers
Numbers flit like bats
Laugh when I call to confirm
Phantoms in the dusk
Hang on, it’s the well guy calling.
“About nine grand.”
“Cool, thanks.”
(Thank you for holding.)
And that’s that…
I should get back to it. Stay tuned, there will be stories.
One thing that’s been great so far: these dudes around here work darn hard. Time to kick it into gear.