Tonight was the wonderful Friday kind, after a tough week, and I was able to decompress, shovel in hand, starting at about eight. Moving dirt, tamping, sweating profusely, shaping, loving my track. The kind of therapy you can't buy.
Big deal about it, though, was that I was out working until after eleven, in a short-sleeve shirt, under the moon. It felt so much like summer. Pure heaven.
The weather turns to hell again this weekend. The good stuff is a long time coming, but it'll eventually get here for more than just a day or two. I hope. Can't wait.