Recently Troy lamented the fact that he has lost his "alone time" since moving here. It used to be that once the kids were in bed, if I was off doing something, he would go out to the garage for his tinker around, pretend to fix stuff, clear your head, man time.
He really loved his garage time (also known as the Men's Crisis Center.) I would estimate he was out there from 10 to midnight at least twice a week. He had a TV, a stereo, a weight bench and all sorts of odds and ends to putz around with. Oh, and the refridgerator with cool beverages.
Here, if you go out to the tool shed to start putzing with something, you will instantly have one to fifteen helpers. Troy cannot bring himself to tell the kind helpers that he just wants to be alone. I can relate, only because running is my alone time, and running here means conversations and greetings all along the way. (It is almost like we're in a different country, huh dad?)
Today, Jason and Troy worked on fixing the village well. As you can see, lots of helpers and spectators showed up for the event. No clear your head, work alone, man time for Troy today.
