
You know... there is just something about getting dirt under your finger nails... or paint on your legs... or some other strange substance that happens to be floating in the open sewers on your shoes. I feels real.
As I was helping lay the roof I kept wondering if the real reason Paul occasionally picked up his tent making was because it kept him sane at times... yeah, I know he needed the money but it sure must have felt good sometimes to simply just be a tent maker.