Deja Vu

I get the most bizarre bought of deja vu as I'm stacking up the logs from a downed tree against my garage. Suddenly I'm a child again and I'm stacking the split wood not against my own garage, but up on my grandma's porch right underneath the window that looks into her living room. I can see her through that window, sitting on her retro green loveseat. I'm messing around waving and making faces at her through the window panes. 

"Quit playing around Liv, it's freezing out here." My dad grumbles. He's right it is freezing out and there's snow piling up on the railing, but grandma needs the wood to heat her house. 

I pick up the pace and am trying to quickly stack the logs while also keeping them in a neat and tidy pile so that way my grandma doesn't grab one and the whole thing topples over on her. This is something that I'm super mindful of because my dad is always warning me about it. In my rush I get a little over zealous and one of the logs slips out of my hand and hits the side of the house. I cringe as I anticipate my dad's quiet scolding,"Don't go busting up Grandma's siding!"

I look up but I'm no longer a kid on my grandma's porch stacking wood for her. I'm in my own yard, stacking the freshly cut wood from downed trees on my own property, and the log just hit the siding of my garage. I check to make sure I didn't crack it and carry on, smiling to myself thinking how the simplest tasks carry the most poignant memories.