Saturday night, and I was still hangin' around (though I had gone out to the coffee shop near the house that afternoon), and wanting to get something done, I weeded out old paperwork. As that graduation column says, "Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements." I didn't need credit union and credit card statements from, say, 2007; so I spent a while shredding those by hand. Realization I'd already realized but then realized more strongly: account numbers can show up on A LOT of different parts of statements. "Oh, wait, there's another account number. Cut that out." The bulk of the paper is now in the recycling bin, with all sorts of holes in them and the smaller slices of paper I was cutting out getting thrown away elsewhere, in, um, places I doubt identity thieves would want to search through. (I used to be even more thorough: I used to put those bits of paper into the can I used to catch bacon grease.) And the paperwork I have left is better sorted now, which feels satisfying.
Sunday was more active, as in "needed aspirin" active: now that the Belmont Goats are over at their new site and the previous site is being prepped for development, the owners had disassembled the small barn so they can rebuild it, and yesterday afternoon I helped move lots and lots of that wood into a pickup truck and a car so we could unload it at the new home. Some of the especially long poles, we moved the two blocks ON OUR SHOULDERS: they wouldn't have fit in either vehicle. I'm sure that was a striking image for any drivers driving by, like they'd stumbled on Survivor contestants building their shelter.
I was then glad I hadn't showered until after helping move all that. Still a little sore, but accomplished.