Living in D.C., it was not uncommon to go a day without ever leaving the apartment. It didn't happen often, but once in a while I just ... didn't go out.
Far more common: I had plenty of days where my time "outside" mostly consisted of walking to the car, from the car to a building, from my apartment to a store. From one inside place to another. Maybe the bar had a rooftop or sidewalk seating.
In a city, "inside" is the default because personal outdoor space is so rare. If you can hang out on your front steps in the city, you've really got something. A back porch or small yard is gold, and apartment buildings advertise rooftop decks as major amenities.
Being inside is simply the norm. Being outside is different, something to celebrate.
For the last few weeks, I've been spending most of my time on the property. And because there is no cabin yet, most of that time is outside. Maybe 8-10 hours a day spent outside in the sun. I set up a small camp, with a tent and hammock and stove and fire pit, and have been clearing out brush and dead trees, preparing trails and getting the site ready.
What a difference it makes. Everything seems slower, feels slower. I drive slower. I work more, eat less. My body aches, but from actual movement, and I can slowly feel myself (very) slowly getting stronger.
Alas, I placed the camp where I intended to sit the cabin. Made sense at the time, but with excavation work planned for this week I had to move everything. #genius
Excavation work was actually slated to begin today, but unfortunately had to be delayed until the end of the week. But the folks from Woodtex came out to survey the site, and it looks as though things are pretty straightforward. I need to take down another three or four trees, but only one of them is significant. With a little luck, the cabin could be in place ... well, I don't want to jinx it by speculating.
Soon, I hope.
Gonzo is getting tired of sleeping in the van.