Idle Hands.

Today work found me. They say that "idle hands do the devil's work," and this job is clear proof of the inaccuracy of that old aphorism. My idle hands were typing overwrought blog entries. Anything but the devil's work. Unless the devil is a pudgy feeling pseudo-intellectual slouching before a computer who loves to type inane diary entries that only his wife reads. (I have no doubt, however, that the devil is a lawyer, remembering Job's "advocate.") Nor do I believe that turning the pages in books and articles, surfing through listings for used kayaks, and drumming up pro bono work is the devil's work. However, my hands are now less idle; I have been given work. And I am now much less confident about who's work I am doing.

This weekend, while Amy was away, I helped build a roof for a little old lady's back porch. Friday, I relearned trig and designed the little roof, drew little diagrams on Word, downloaded some trig tables from NASA. The next morning I was "team leader" for a bunch of guys with varying carpentry skills. Fortunately, a couple of the guys had more skills than I, and unfortunately, a couple more had less experience, but as much confidence as I did.

I learned: (1) a porch roof can built solely on determination; (2) saying no to a suggested change to your plan is easier when the suggester introduces himself as "Sasquatch" (even if he does have obvious skills with a pneumatic nail gun); (3) ask the quiet guy who works hard what he thinks (turns out he's an expert in porch roofs, but too nice to tell you that you're an idiot); (4) assume that your project will take all the time that's available to you, regardless of its complexity; and (5) preachers should avoid building metaphors in the blessing that starts a day of charitable home repair.

Today's rule: savor every Christopher Guest moment that the world throws your way, and if everyone is acting too reasonably, don't be afraid to be the hero and act like an idiot.