It’s amazing how quickly our mudpit has turned into a dust bowl.
I am growing weary. The progress at our house is tiny, baby steps. Well, not really…because baby steps implies a sense of excitement and pride. So, I think it’s a better comparison to say our house is moving along at the pace of a snail. A snail who is feeling tired.
I am trying hard to be patient, and I really do think I do an ok job of that. Yet, my patience occurs simultaneously beside impatience. I’m an enigma like that through and through. I have to keep telling myself not to compare our situation with our neighbours who have a cool, calm, stylish abode and can sit on their back deck with their outdoor tv & luxury outdoor kitchen entertaining friends in an oasis of relaxation. It’s lucky they are such great neighbours. But, they are at the end of the process. Whereas we are at the beginning. We are about a quarter of the way through, and that’s probably even being optimistic. Like the tired snail, when I lift my head to try to see the end point, I can’t actually see anything except for more hard work and sweat and mess.
Yet, I know that my neighbours went through this too, and not without pain. And I really should mention that I don’t actually do any of the work. Oh no, it’s all Pauly P with some help from Mick aka Pop. What I do is hold things (string, tape measure, survey stick) for them at random times, and bring out a few refreshments sporadically, and try to keep an inquisitive toddler out of the trenches or from the path of a swinging maddock and away from the heavy moving machinery. Sometimes I think doing the hard labour would be preferable…!
But, I know we will get there eventually. After all, even if it feels like a lifetime has passed, not so long ago this….
was transformed into this.






