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I ended my Memorial weekend feeling absolutely blessed. Blessed by fabulous friendships and by God’s amazing and humbling synchronicity at work as we charge ahead.
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We have bartered a wood stove for window installation (and are getting the windows at a deep discount besides!).
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The labor for our roof tear off and installation is being donated.
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The application for a permit for our driveway has been approved, mostly because of who we know.
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The labor for our stairway installation is being donated.
Each one of these items has a long involved story to explain how they came about. The point of all of it is so clear: We are being blessed!
I also have to interject a few words about partnership and marriage. I have felt for a long time that this project is one giant metaphor for me and Sean and us taking time and energy to rebuild our life together. Moving forward prayerfully and intentionally. Establishing new financial habits. Being kind and respectful partners with a common goal: a safe, functional, spirit-filled home for our family. Few goals are so worthy!!
With that said, we were blessed this past weekend with a visit from the Malveys, who maintain a permanent spot on our list of our favorite people in the entire world.
I get giddy when we have plans to visit and our time together is never enough. Thanks for your help with everything this past weekend Malveys! I have a few more pictures I didn’t manage to get resized last night with this round, so keep an eye out for another round of Memorial Day shots!
Sean, Craig, Me and Lori hanging out on the stoop:
The ceiling above the stairs… or where the stairs USED to be!
My new favorite picture.
In the interest of preserving our lawnmower blades, we had a contest to see who could pick up the most sticks out of the yard. Complete with cheesy prizes! (Photos forthcoming.)
The kids formed alliances, in true reality TV style. J and L formed a team:
Against J, C, W, and A. Forces to be reckoned with for sure!
After a Saturday full of destruction and a Sunday full of mud and tape, the tile floor is installed at last… the plan is to apply grout this coming weekend. My knees and back will live a happy and complete life if I never install tile again.
My husband and I have officially been together for 16 years (married for thirteen). I’m 32, so that means that we’ve been together for half my life.
I know who I am better when I’m around my husband. Not that I’m always in the mood to be someone happy around him, but I think that’s really the point. I don’t have to put on different colors around him.
Best of all, I can say the weirdest, sickest, messed up things around him, and nothing shocks him. If you know me at all, you can guess what sorts of weird sick things I might come up with. Then think SICKER, WEIRDER, AND MORE MESSED UP. Then you’re starting to get close.
He made a comment recently about dying young. And I told him to hurry up so I can remarry while I’m still young and hot.
But the truth is I can’t imagine starting over with someone else. All the uncomfortable getting-to-be-comfortable-with-you crap. No thanks.
I just hate that some days I’ve used up the nice and friendly piece of me before I ever get to see him and he gets stuck with the bitchy, cranky, headache afflicted me.
For some reason, when I sat down to write this post, I thought I was coming up with something really transcendental.
These thoughts aren’t new. But they’re true. And I’m grateful for the half of my life we’ve been together.
