The past two days have seen more mishaps (ahem, refer to title) than normal. The night before last, I was picking up lumber pieces and ran *smack* into a rafter. I hit the beam so hard with my eye that my contact was literally catapulted out of my eye. I sustained very small cuts above, under, and on my eye but am otherwise fine. I’m still trying to come up with a really good story to accompany my injuries, because I walked into a piece of wood doesn’t have a very impressive ring to it.
Last night while we were working, I watched as Andy did almost the exact same thing. I know what you are thinking, just watch where you are going. I really wish it were that easy. No one mentioned that a lesson in contortionism would be needed to maneuver the treacherous piles of wood and nails surrounding the house. Or that a lesson in rock climbing would be handy to reach the second floor.
A third incident took place while I was sweeping.. again. My mom ears tuned in to hear Ian insist to Grant and Sam that “he could do it”. I couldn’t see them, but there are key phrases that my brain unconsciously scans for when the kids are out of my sight. “Put me in the hole!” turns out to be one of them. Ian was trying to convince Grant and Sam to lower him into the area below one of the porches to collect wood that had dropped into the darkness. I made the decision to just let this one play out, knowing in my heart that my super-responsible 10-year-old, Grant, would never let this idea take shape. I was right, Grant made the solo decision that Ian was too little to go down into the pit alone…he convinced Sam to go with him. I inconspicuously worked my way to sweeping closer to their location and turned my alarm-widened eyes away as Grant lowered their bodies between the floor beams. Let me just take this moment to say that the area connects to the crawl space and the kids were in no danger of getting stuck. I just wanted to see what conclusion this instance of teamwork would bring. The crawl space opening is currently covered by exterior doors awaiting installation, so the boys lowered themselves into this dark abyss truly believing that their only way out was back up through the porch.
Sam and Ian went about chucking trash out of the hole. The process reminded me of watching sand crabs at the beach. After they get slightly below the surface of the sand, all you can see is frequent plumes of sand being blasted out of the site of their disappearance. Replace the crabs with Sam and Ian, and the plumes of sand with chunks of wood. You get the picture.
After making my third gargantuan pile of sawdust for collection, I hear the rumblings of exit strategies. My interest peaked, I work the broom back to a line of sight of Grant, now using a piece of wood to prop up the massive plywood covering the porch floor. Ian uses the rebar sticking out of the concrete walls to pull himself out of the enclosure. Then comes Sam’s turn. Houston we have a problem. Grant’s middle name is Houston…get it? Never mind.
Grant, being a product of his Papa Cordray and Grandad Hopper, starts devising hoists and ramps to bring Sam to safety. The plans are solid, safe, and frankly awesome, but Sam has lost trust in Grant since being lowered into the chasm. Grant calmly tries to convince Sam that these inventions will, in fact, bring him into the light, but Sam stubbornly refuses to be persuaded. Finally comes the call for Daddy to pull Sam to freedom, he does, and is a super-hero once again.
The outside of the house is being enclosed in plywood and the roof panels are complete over the back half of the house. The rooms are taking shape now that they are enclosed. Andy and I are trying to place TVs and computers in our minds so the wiring can begin. I picked up the two types of floor tiles being used in the bathrooms. Currently, I am coveting soapstone counter tops and Andy is awaiting the delivery of his most prized purchase to date…the Johnny Bucket Jr.
Taken a couple of days ago.


Back of house before roof. 

Tile going in Master bathroom, boys’ bathroom, and laundry room.

Coveted soapstone. It is darker in person.