Busy Hands Homestead

Time is rushing past.   The windows are down, my hair tangling in the wind, as I sing along to the radio, and my hand rests on the stick shift, flying down the highway in fifth gear. I have twenty minutes of, what feels like open time, on my way to pick up the kids from horseback riding camp. They have enjoyed a week of horses, ponies, baby goats, tiny bunnies. I’ve endured a week of begging to bring tiny, furry, undeniably cute creatures home.    They almost convinced me. ALMOST. The default answer is: “not until the house is done.” Time is rushing past and it is hard to stop and take a moment to pause, and even harder to look back and reflect on where we have been. We move from day to day, week to week, month to month while also tackling project after project. It is hard to prioritize. It is hard to focus. Sometimes it feels like we are moving in circles.  It is suddenly summer, and not just summer but the middle of summer, almost the end of summer...

There is dirt under my finger nails is the same color as the weeks old bruise under the nail of my thumb.   I took last week off of work. Adam took off the week before Christmas, and the upstairs flooring is 99% done: the bedrooms have wide maple planks, the great room upstairs is oak parquet, and a friend laid most of the tiles in the upstairs bathroom. The stair landings are done.    Risers placed. Treads still need to be cut and installed. It was my goal to tackle a giant pile of reclaimed flooring and get it ready to install. To install our heat system, our floors need to be sanded and finished.   I wanted to install heat the first week of January.   Those days have come and gone, and while the pile of flooring is now half the size that it was when I started, it still stands between heat and appliances. I sort boards by tongue and groove size. I scrape layers of dirt that peel away like thick apple skins from tongues and grooves.  ...