Thursday, June 24, 2010

A place to hang my hat.

I can't even begin to imagine being out here 100 years ago. The sun is brutal. The dirt is everywhere. The work is endless. I bleed before nine O'clock nearly every morning. There is something uniquely painful and unwelcoming about the desert. Everything is out to protect its self. Everything is its own cacti. I am covered in dirt, blood, scabs, bruises, and sweat. And even though I am usually too tired to stay up past ten, I have never felt more satisfied. I've never felt more complete and accomplished. Home is here and now, where the dirt is. Dain & I have nearly completed our temporary living accommodations. It's the jalopy of houses. It is a mansion to us, and it's situated in an all inclusive resort.
We started from ground up. Building the floor and walls with pallets. We've found a lot of other materials. We also picked up a lot of culled lumber from the worlds friendliest lumber yard.
We finished the "frame" of the shack in about nine days, late late late that ninth night. We moved in early the next morning and slept under this tarp for three days until our roofing material arrived at the lumber yard.
We then proceeded to move all of our worldly possessions into an 8x16' space. Again! A miracle! After about eight hours we were able to achieve this extreme.
Packing and repacking and packing and repacking. A lot of books and music equipment and un-necessities are stored in our soon to be shed or under our slightly lofted bed.
We are still constantly building.
A cat door for WWII. The first day in the shack she brought us a lizard. It bled all over a quilt.
The camp stove I built. How I pine for a stove. I am going to set up a propane stove as soon as I find one. A real one, with four burners and an oven. But, I wont let this hold me down. Even though I was too tired to actually use it the first night. We almost didn't even heat up the hot dogs. Which has been known to happen.
Like I said, I'm not going to let this slapdash stove hold me back.
The morning to mid-afternoon sun is brutal. Two days ago we cemented posts for an east facing awning. All of yesterday we built the awning from start to finish. Today is the first day of our seven day vacation. Seven days before we start our real house. Seven long days of nothing but relaxing (and building a table, a bench, our tool shed in the back, and also painting the shack, but besides that, relaxing®).
It's a work in progress, but for now: Home is where the truck is not.