It's been approximately 12 weeks since construction started on what has become my family's new home, but as we took a couple off in early October to attend my uncle's wedding and get the potato harvest in, that sounds about right.
I'm sitting in the loft of our little house, resting.
That phrase alone seemed a complete impossibility three months ago, even three weeks ago (the resting part, that is!).
Yes, the enormous project that's been my whole life this fall and early winter was construction. I now know things about things that I never knew I'd even need to know about those things, pertaining to lumber and power tools, sheetrock and roofing and plumbing and sharp pokey things and Very Heavy things.
You see I'm doing my best to relegate the technicalities to the recesses of my mind for future use and present oblivion - for now, I'd be glad to completely forget all of it. From the first time I drilled a galvie into sheeting with a nail gun, which was awesome, to the choking sensation of installing insulation, which was horrid, to the horrific sensation of sliding down the face of the roof and being caught, which was the second closest I've ever come to blacking out from terror.
All of it was an incredible experience and a pretty unique opportunity to learn... a lot of good stuff... but just thinking it over gives me a sense of unutterable weariness which I'd like to exchange for a good nap and settle back into my groove, relishing the many blessings surrounding me.
Right there at the top of the list of things I learned is how truly amazing my friends are. This project would never have come to be without their strong arms, their smiling faces, their coming out in the rain and snow day after day, bearing tools, potluck, and coffee. (Actually, I don't drink much coffee, but after weeks of hard labor and stress, I was surprised at just how good that stuff works...! )
People will wistfully speak of the good old days, the days of barn raisings and tight-knit communities of neighbors helping each other out. I'm here to say that these are the good old days, as long as there are communities like mine. There aren't words to express just how amazing it is.
If you've read this blog for any length of time, you already know a bit about my Wall Tent adventures, and the 1945 bus I called home this last year. I wrote a bit about my family's trailer home here. Yes, we all have a bit of Gypsy in us... but the main reason for our alternative housing adventures was our dream of building a log home debt free.
Our log shell was built two years ago, and this autumn, we were finally able to move forward on getting it roofed. In addition, though, we were able to move an existing shed we had and build a little house into it, hopefully leaving our trailer years behind forever.
I'll always keep the years I lived in the Wall Tent Studio, then this year the Beck bus, close to my heart. It was an adventure I wouldn't trade. But now, I am really, really excited to finally live in a real house once more, complete with indoor plumbing, glass windows, wood floors, and best of all, a real piano!
Yes, I got a piano last week and should pick it up this weekend... I've never owned a real piano before and the speakers on my keyboard are shot.
My brother and I moved the bus over by the new house, and I'll be sharing photos of the newly set up Beck Mainliner sewing studio soon, where I'm as busy as ever running Kellie Falconer Design and the Wall Tent Button Co! The wall tent will be packed up and stored clean and dry till net year, when I can't wait to set it up once more.
So many things, enormous and little, have made this without doubt the most exceptional three months of my whole life. I can't wait to see what's around the bend.
It's good to be back. It's good to be here - home.