A Place Called Home

So, the weekend was spent working out at the building site. Saturday was overcast and muggy, but not too hot. We had quite the little work crew out there: hubby, myself, my dad and hubby's dad. We worked for about seven hours, taking the forms off the foundation and busting the forms loose from the poured concrete. Sunday the weather was sunny and breezy, so we stayed cool but got sunburnt. I am sporting a total farmer's tan (sunburn) which should be exceedingly attractive when it starts to peel. I'm hoping to smother it with enough Vaseline Intensive Care ultra moisturizer to avoid shedding like a snake. Oh, and I was smart enough to go invest in a pair of leather work gloves which totally saved my hands but also gave me a freaky tan line - red arms, white-ish hands. So attractive.

Boy, Sunday I did some of the hardest, most physically demanding work of my entire life. Busting concrete with a sledgehammer is not easy. But you know what? I kinda liked it. There was something gratifying about pounding on that concrete, raising that sledgehammer up over my head and driving it down into the rock over and over again, until it finally weakened and broke apart. At the end of the day, our building site was very clean and tidy and all the out-of-place concrete had been busted and chucked into the garage area (where it will be covered with dirt and a cement slab). I thought for sure I would be completely paralyzed with pain this morning, but really the sting of the sunburn is the worst of it. My right hand is a little on the tired side, and I don't have much of a grip left, but overall, I'm surprisingly okay. That too makes me feel pretty good. Maybe I'm in better shape than I thought!

I was telling a co-worker today that even if we could afford to pay someone to do every speck of the work on our house, and have it perfectly done and all landscaped and pretty, I'm not sure I would do it. There's something pretty special about throwing your blood, sweat and tears into the building of a home - the place we'll raise our kids, make a zillion memories, celebrate birthdays and holidays in, grow old(er) in, and call Home for many years. I think it'll make it seem so much more OUR'S because we'll have our grubby, blistered, sunburnt little hands in as much of the process as possible.

I'm already attached to the place and it's nothing but some concrete and piles of dirt. But being involved and doing what I can has completely done a 180 on my attitude. I will work more if I have to and I will fight tooth and nail to keep that place as mine. It's my home afterall.