#thehomeproject Home Edition

My Dad 'built' our house. In so far as a Civil P.Eng. builds his house without his very mechanical father and father-in-law. No he built it.

It is a profound point of pride in our family that while we lived in the suburbs our home was a home.. made with busted fingers and the sweat and designs of our people. My mother the wizard who brought the 1 and 5 year old onto the old property to foist up a structure that would be home. A builder in her own right she taught me every trick I know to design or tile or finish or ... well I can't uploster, she is the Alpha.

Homemaking has its meaning to us.

My husband is a soft-bodied lawyer from the rich side of town where every domestic charm came from the very best catalogues.

But he tries. Damn I acquired him the summer after we met as a painter and amour. Good combo. He was faking it mostly but 20 years hence blood may be thicker than water but plumb chalk and spackle binds in its own special way. We are now one. I have no end of special treats on my walls and floors thanks to his crossover.

For the long weekend we set to our religion. Renovate. The target to unburden ourselves of the old workshop for a cantina space. The current garage leaves enough workshop room for amateurs like us. And soon more room for summer sun where the kids can all run while the salmon BBQs. A bigger passion than the homemaking the object togethering. Wish you could join us. Soon.



ps.. there is a well known joke at my office. If I am renovating I must be pregnant. But no we can simply rest on our laurels (or bay leaf as the case may be) -- its just for us at this point.