Welcome! This post is Day 9 in a 31 Day series. To find the other entries, please click here.
Today is jam packed with good things, so I've got the tiniest sliver of time to visit with you and keep my commitment to be here everyday this month.
And, since I'm getting here earlier in the day, I'm happy to report there's a steamy fresh cuppa pumpkin spice keeping me company. :-)
On Day 3 I wrote about a very brief conversation Weekend Farmer Husband and I had that was the catalyst for our decision to leave a very comfortable suburban life, move to the country, and take on what most days seems like a life long restoration project.
One of the things Weekend Farmer Husband saw very clearly at the "time", (still referencing Day 3), was a window of opportunity to partner with our older sons. He intended to hand over as much of the demolition, remodel, rebuild, and restoration as he could.
Our older sons swung hammers, operated sawzalls, used crowbars, shovels, and brooms with wild abandon and absolute trust. You've gotta imagine that they had very little vision for what this would become, so it was a massive trust exercise to take a wall down and wonder if you'd really ever get a bedroom, or if perhaps you'd just be camping in your own home until you moved out.
They filled eight 40 yard dumpsters.
For you engineering and or visual types, yeah, that's right. We pretty much sent the whole house away with the waste truck.
You know what's next right?
They swung hammers, framed walls, insulated, ran electrical, put in plumbing, added new gas lines, hung drywall, taped, mudded, sanded, installed fixtures, painted, trimmed out, and the list goes on.
And, in the end, they truly have as much ownership in our property in hours of labor as anyone, with the only possible exception being Weekend Farmer Husband himself.
Are you wondering how old these sons were when Weekend Farmer Husband signed them up for their construction internship?
Just boys really.
I asked one of them a question recently trying to remember a date when we made a decision about Liberty Farm.
His reply, "Two thousand and awful!"
It was awful.
And, it was good.