I spent a large portion of today and yesterday helping my father put up a fence. He measured and cut and I drilled and nailed the slats to the posts. After retiring from teaching he decided that the best thing to do was to become a gardener. So for $25 an hour, $40 if my mother is working with him, he mows lawns, prunes hedges, and will if you ask nicely and pay your bills on time construct things like steps, raised garden beds and fences. Because my studies are over and no one has ordained me worthy of a job I have been working for him whenever he has had any jobs that require heavy lifting, lawn mowing or the construction of things such as steps, raised garden beds and fences.
Nailing the slats to the posts I thought about the times where I had gone on practicum as part of my degree and the various Libraries that I had left my mark on, that all have physical evidence that I had been there. The books I had stamped to make shelf ready, the deleted records I had entered into the ledger to record why they were deleted, the instruction manual I wrote for a library system are all parts of myself that I left there and will remain there far longer than the two weeks I was there.
Not as impressive as arrowheads and clay pots but still it is something.