I, however mistakenly, think of myself as a logical, intelligent adult. Afternoons like this prove, as usual, that I am completely and totally wrong in this belief.

When I first came up with the brilliant idea of building a shed to store hay in, it was going to be an exercise, both physically and mentally. I had gotten, through amazon.com, of course, several books about shed building and basic carpentry skills. I thought with a saw, hammer, and measuring tape, I was ready to go.

I started off with a basic foundation. Unfortunately, just thinking about the pouring a concrete base exhausted me. So I figured, okay, concrete blocks. But did you know that solid concrete blocks are like, really heavy? I figured the next size down wouldn’t be that bad - and hey, if you take one step, why not take two?

The concept of leveling the ground also seemed extreme. I mean, I live in a river valley - gently sloping down from the mountains to the river, granted, and not as flat as western Kansas, but still . . .

So I just laid out the blocks - kinda evenly - and then began the floor, and walls. However, putting walls up and attaching them to the floor becomes a bit of a quandary when you are working alone. I just got incredibly creative with props and braces and very odd methods of support, and managed to get it up, wall by wall.

So three walls up - let’s do the roof, which I had randomly decided would be peaked and tall enough to stand up in (at least in the middle). Neglecting measurements, being a little bit puffed up with the fact that I, alone, had constructed at least something of a building.

And it looked rather nice. Only problem was, since I had forgone measurements, it was missing a necessary 10 to 12 inches to span the top. So I took it apart, and in true Hope-fashion, let everything alone for approximately four months.

Now that my college-age son is back for two weeks between semesters, I actually have a chance to finish my . . . er, experiment in gravity (i.e., what will stand by itself). So today I spent about 45 minutes constructing sloping side panels to support a simpler leaning roof.

I’m exhausted.

On top of that, I have a 1) spouse who is suffering from increasing bouts of severe paranoia, 2) son who is suffering from increased depression, and 3) daughter who is getting less and less hours of work, and thereby becoming more and more dependent financially on her parents.

Isn’t life fun?