It will put hair on your chest.

in

When I was a kid, my Father had a saying that he would recite anytime we complained about doing something that was good for us - like eating our vegetables or walking to school. We would complain and he would say, "It will put hair on your chest." It didn't occur to me at the time that maybe that wasn't such a good aspiration for a girl. 

Living in a construction zone is not for everyone. The grinding of saws, the scraping of conduit being pulled through the house and the relentless and never ending dust, can make you a little crazy.

I find dust and gravel everywhere.

The dust gets so bad from time to time, that it even prevents flowers from blooming. 

I'll wait on flowers for awhile.

This process is teaching me patience and forgiveness, as in "Who took my bloody, non-construction-fill-in-the-gap: step stool/broom and dustpan/paper towels/trash bag."

And it is good for me to have my imagination challenged after demo happens.

Now imagine the shower on the far wall, right beside the toilet and the vanity - can you see it?

Imagine two doors that slide apart at the top of the stairs, you look in and see the vanity and the slipper tub. 

Everywhere I look, there are body parts emerging from openings in the ceiling or the floor:

I'm always's seeing Raul's legs emerging from somewhere in the house.

And depending on where you walk in the house the airwaves are filled with golden oldies or a rousing
Mexican polka.

Communicating in a construction zone, is best done in writing — often on the walls themselves, so that everyone knows what to do. I pride myself on my clear instructions, like this one for Ernie, my electrician...

Explaining the position of the switch.

Despite all of this, I can't remember a time when I've been happier.

Waking up in the morning and donning my work boots and painter's pants is a great way to start the day, and looking at what we've accomplished in just over two months is really gratifying!