My miniature shingled cottage sits unfinished –– without him it wasn't much fun –– but Daddo and I used his power planer to make itty-bitty hardwood floors, and we constructed nifty little jigs and clamps scaled to handle the delicate woodwork of the house. He helped me fabricate plaster fieldstones for the chimney. We had a ball.
At one point, when I had decided to scoot the dormer windows of the cottage a fraction closer together, Daddo looked at me and said, "You're going to make a contractor tear out his hair."
Not exactly a life goal, but...
I like to think I know my mind, but the thing is, it's hard to visualize construction until it's up...
We returned to the Would-Be Farm in June and were not disappointed to see progress.
The trusty stone-quarry guy had installed a nice gravel driveway right up to the build, including culverts and a sweet level parking area that will be ideal for our friends with motorhomes.
And by the beard of mighty Hephaestus himself, the contractor and his gang were busily putting in trusses.
Ahhh. Trusses. With trusses, a girl can visualize what the place is going to look like...
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