I don’t remember this being part of the dream…..
I once again find myself using the big blue broom to push the water out of the basement. Rain may be great for the pasture, but it sure creates a mess in an unfinished house. The sunny side of the situation?  Ian loves catching all of the toads that the water draws.
Watching a house being built brings to mind a man anticipating his upcoming wedding. He has the dream of his beautiful wife and the many happy years to come. The night before the wedding he decides he is going to sneak a peek at his bride-to-be. He craftily sneaks up to her window, expecting her beauty to overwhelm him. His eyes settle on her robed back and as she turns around….he lets out a yelp of surprise.
The surprise is not a good one.
She has a green mask on her face and her head is adorned with rollers. As the groom runs for his life, he questions how he could have made such a mistake.
Now, as all we women know, the man only saw the preparation for the beauty to come. God does provide some wonders for the eye to behold, but let’s be honest, most beauty must be quarried. Sweat, filing, and scrubbing combined with lotions, waxes, and polishes are what it takes to soften those rough edges.
I suppose the same is true for the house. I see all the imperfections, sweep away all the trash from the cracks. I truly wonder sometimes if men or animals are eating lunch in my future living room. When I hear the curse words being showered over the walls, I want to shout at the manly men, “She can hear you!”
I can also appreciate the fact that she came from nothing. That once she was just a dream in my vivid imagination. That sweat, blood, and yes…curse words have built her. So I will focus on the fact that scars cans also be beautiful. They carry with them stories of endurance and survival. I will try to remember every heartache, gray hair, splinter, callous and bruise as a right of passage to our new life.    
Speaking of gray hairs, both of our cows are now in the neighbor’s pasture. There are still no holes in the fence. We all agree that they are walking over the fence, so fence reinforcement will begin shortly. Another hilarious tale of cattle herding will no doubt follow. For now I must watch them 2 feet across the boundry. Clara stares back with quilty glances that say “she made me do it!”, while Jenny glares as if to say, “whatcha gonna do about it cowgirl?” My thoughts as my eyes bore into hers?
I’m havin steak for dinner….