Bee Tree Farm

So if you cock your head a little sideways and turn the lights up in your livingroom, you might actually get a sense for what I’ve photographed in these images.

Here we have two images, pre-wall texture, to display the first of approximately 15 lights and fans that will go into the living/kitchen/dining.  That there downrod above the light?  Hand crafted by Jeremy himself.  Due to the slant of the ceiling, each rod has to be a different length.  That’s just another of the many, “I can’t believe we didn’t think of that” types of issues we’ve encountered.  And since we’re installing all lights/fans/plumbing fixtures ourselves, well, there’s a whole lot more forehead slapping we’ll be doing.  Regardless.  There’s a light!!!!  In the kitchen!!!!  It’s a big time out here folks.

And here is the house as it looked this evening:

That is actual, real, finished, totally done, completed drywall – floated, taped, and textured.  The crew packed up and made room for the trim crew coming out Monday.  This means the final stage of the house build will begin exactly (exactly!) three months from the day it started.  Trim involves baseboards, closet shelving, and hanging interior doors.  For more information about the restoration and use of old doors – please come back next week.  Or maybe don’t come back. Because all I’ll have to say about restoring and using old doors can be summed up in one word: “DON’T.” (Jenna says, as she clears throat and looks awkwardly at the floor:  What was I thinking?!).  


Regardless of the door saga, which requires it’s own blog and could easily become a miniseries on the Lifetime Channel for Women, I am quite taken with this house.  Quite.  Taken.  After wandering through the place this evening repeatedly, just looping around and around, through exterior doors, around porches, into another door, up the stairs into the attic, down the stairs, into the master bedroom, into the closet, etc (and repeat) – I finally made my way onto the back pasture.  On a chilly evening, the animals are at their finest, and I hate to miss an opportunity to stand in the pasture while the donkeys chase circles around me.  It’s a lot funnier to watch donkey chasing whilst standing among them, then from across the fence.  As their excitement subsided and Boo’s hysterical galloping died down, I stood in the oak grove and looked at the house.  In that moment the memory of this time last year slammed into me, full force.  That immovable feeling of running under water.  To be standing there with the house before me, knowing there are walls in there, a septic system installed, and not much separating us from a key to the front door – is unreal.  Luckily, the dull “thud, thud” sound of Chula kicking Boo while he bit her back, stirred me from my overly emotional reverie.  It’s no good to think “where you were” or “how long it took” or attempt to measure how much energy was spent in any which way.  What matters is where you are.  Now.

Pat yourself on the back and roll up your sleeves.  And get back to work getting somewhere.