I had reached the end of my rope.  I told my husband I 
had had enough.  I could not stay here one more night under these 
conditions.  We had to find another place to stay until some of the 
basic necessities of life were evident in our house.  I told my plumber 
we were going to look for a hotel room we could stay in.  He put his 
hands on my shoulders, looked me in the face and said those 
unforgettable words, "Tonight you will have a working shower."  I could 
have cried for joy.  No hotel, no more washing up at the kitchen sink. 
 We were going to have a real shower!!  That night, standing in a hot 
stream of water in our own shower in our ceilingless bedroom, I had a 
glimmer of hope that, yes, there was a chance that this project could 
 be completed after all.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Miracles do happen!
Miracles do happen!  Nearly 2 years ago, in January 2011, we purchased 
the house that would become The Sterling.  Thinking we were up to the 
challenge, my husband and I moved ahead with the plan to renovate and 
improve this lovely, however, somewhat neglected, structure.  There were
 many days I wasn't sure we were going to make it to the finish line. 
 One day, in particular, stands out in my mind.  (Actually, there are a 
lot of days that stand out in my mind - but more about those later).  It
 was November of 2011.  We were in a mad scramble to get more than 100 
perennials into the ground. And I use the word "ground" loosely as our 
yard is basically small river rock with a dusting of soil.  It was cold,
 wet and sleeting as we used pick ax style tools to make holes barely 
big enough to plop a plant in.  We were cold, wet and muddy.  Inside the
 house, plumbers were working their magic but we had a long way to go. 
 There was one makeshift working toilet that a floor below our bedroom. 
 No sink other than the old kitchen sink and no shower.  The ceiling in 
our bedroom had the plaster removed but each night we looked up at lath,
 loose plaster pieces hanging between the slats, old newspaper and 
sawdust.  This was not the stuff dreams are made of!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
 
