I've been bolstering down walls with my little chisel. I took out one brick, my hubby took down a full wall. Still my contribution however small will all help in the great scheme of things.
The final phase of our renovation is taking place. It's been a humungous task, much bigger than we ever anticipated. It's taken almost 5 years, but it's been done with care and respect for the old building. They sure coud build in the 1600's: that mortar is still as good as the day it was used, the bricks, a beautiful orange colour and handmade, the oak beams, expertly carved to fit, and the weight -- oh, my, what a weight!
It will all be worth it in the end, and that's a phrase I'm quite used to hearing! I sure hope so. I'm aching from all the work I've done today. I've never made any contribution since Aug 2004 and I can be that specific because that's when I first went into hospital. I was never able to help in any way after that, so I guess it's testament to how far I've come since then.
I get an inner sense of worth just being able to lend a hand. I did so much of the renovation to begin with that it would be a shame not to have a hand in the final phase. It's a matter of pride and achievement on my part because hardly anyone belives that I actually did the brickwork on the outside of the house -- I did! And I won't pretend that it was easy -- it wasn't.
I'm being beckoned for a nice soak in the bathtub. No candles or bubbles, just lovely warm water and a woman full of satisfaction for a change!