Posted by Suzanne McMinn @ 5:05 am | Permalink
Daily Farmhouse Journal
It’s a little messy in the kitchen. Steve-the-Builder is still using my garden window, and most of my counters, as his workspace.
The living room is a little messy, too.
This hall bathroom almost looks tidy. It could use some decor, don’t you think? And some running water…..
Between nailing on trim and hanging doors yesterday, Steve-the-Builder pumped our new well and got the water running clear in a few hours. He wants to pump it again this morning and then sometime today he’ll start running it into the house! It’ll be, like, a real house! Except for the messy part and all the construction finishing work. And the no furniture thing.
The flooring is completed on the main floor, but it hasn’t made it up the stairs to Princess’s Summer Pecan and Polished Maple bedroom.
My “pie porch” isn’t quite ready for pie yet, either. (I will be calling this the “pie porch” forever now, thank you! I love your comments, each and every one. You make my day, and you come up with the greatest ideas!)
Here’s what I was doing from morning to midnight yesterday.
I could hardly paint trim and get it dry fast enough before Steve-the-Builder was nailing it to the wall. The end is near and he has a fishing trip planned. Inspired by dreams of his rod and reel, he’s working nearly 24/7 to complete our house. The trim is nearly finished on the main floor. He’s got a few more doors to hang, and gutters and a few other small jobs. Then he’ll clean up and go fishing. And we’ll be able to bring furniture in.
For now, I decided last night to leave the children back at the old farm with my cousins. They’ll be more comfortable there, and I can work nonstop along with Steve-the-Builder painting trim, cleaning up the floors, and getting things organized. (I say that as if I work one teensy tiny bit as hard as he does.) So it was just me and my trusty puppy who spent the night last night, with some blankets and pillows on the floor. Bluebell was a little scared at first. She kept looking at me as if she wanted to know when we were going to go home.
But this is home. And I get to wake up here every day for the rest of my life. How lucky am I? I think I need to pinch myself because I must be dreaming! But it’s real. Steve-the-Builder finally left just after midnight, and when I was here, alone, in my so-close-to-finished house, just me and Bluebell? Total euphoria hit. I didn’t have to go home. I was home. Home on a farm.
I LIVE ON A FARM!!!!!! And if I couldn’t wait quite one more day for the water to be running in the house, can you blame me? I don’t like to complain about the old farmhouse. I love the old farmhouse. I think everyone should live in a 100-year-old farmhouse for two and a half years. It is a life experience beyond compare. But things don’t work there. (And water not working for one day here? Not even close to what all doesn’t work right there!)
And still, at the dawn of this new farmhouse’s life, I can only hope that someday it will be filled with the love and meaning and history of that old farmhouse. I believe….
