Blogger Goes MIA- Story and Photos Below

*What a week*.

We're still in negotiations with the electric company- but I think we've worked out a scenario for both replenishing the areas that were destroyed AND coming up with a plan (having to do with strategically placed gates) so they NEVER have to cross the wetlands again.

I met with our contractor (henceforth to be referred to as "Ronnie") and he and his boys (3 strapping sons all grown up in the family contracting business and just as professional and courteous as their dad) measured out, mowed and flagged where the house is going to sit.

(Lets see if I can get through the rest of this without parentheses...bet I can't).

Now I was aware that SOME little pines would have to be sacrificed for this endeavor, but pines grow like weeds here (one reason I love this area of the country).

*(damn it- ALREADY with the parentheses??? OK- I'm REALLY going to do it this time)*.

And by little, I mean they were 6 inches high when we bought the place- see? Can't even see them above the grass.



Per the wildlife biologist, we'd left it all alone to grow up and heal. Here's what it looked like pre-mow.



I know, right? By last week I wasn't even sure we'd FIT a house in there.

Anyhoo, we'll snug the house in there right close- part of the plan to make it look like it's always been there and hopefully like it actually grew there instead of standing out like a big ol' boil on the butt of Mother Nature.

So here it is now-



Yesterday we met Ronnie and his lovely wife Tracy at the title company office and signed about a hundred papers all saying pretty much the same thing- namely that our ass is the bank's for the next 20 years. But the GOOD news is that we have a shiny new Interim Building Checking Account and are Official Home Builders.

The title company lady said the same thing the bank lady has been saying- "You know, you're a little more 'hands on' than most home builders, Mrs. Dixon. Most of our owner-builders pick a plan out of a book, hand it to the builder and except for maybe a once a week visit to the site, they say 'call us when we can get the key to the front door'". It really is odd to them that *I* designed it- like with graph paper, a pencil and a ruler- and *I* will be purchasing all of the incidentals like fixtures, trims, and doorknobs, and I WILL be on the jobsite every single day possible, I WILL be doing alot of the finish work my own self, and I WILL be going into work at the clinic to do my 'real job' after dark...till it's finished.

We have to be in Houston for appointments Monday thru Wednesday so will miss the first flurry of activity- the well going in, the dirtwork, resetting gates so the big equipment can get to the homesite- so we went out there today in the quiet of late afternoon and had our own little ground-breaking ceremony.



And Ward said to Alec, "Son- we're on our own now for the next few months- Mommy's going to be building a house".

And Alec sighed and said, "Yeah...I know".

What does that mean to my blogging community? That weird eclectic tiny buncha folks who actually READ this from all over the world?

When I started this, it was more of an exercise for me- as a writer I adore the Short Story, have attempted a tiny fictional work, a published journal, and a collection of beliefs, but I've got newspaper in my blood back 3 generations and have always fancied the notion of column writing. This- this blog- is my experiment to see if I can deliver something remotely worthwhile three times a week.

So I'll still attempt it- dropping off of my chair dead tired with dirt under my nails, sawdust in my hair and grout between my toes, and we'll see how it goes.

I ask in advance your forgiveness for those inevitable posts that will look like they're written in some foreign code used only by lemmings on LSD.

One more photo just because Ward's so deliciously cute-




(Ha. Made it without any more parentheses).

*(Damn it)*.

*(Grrrr....)*.

*(MAKE IT STOP!!!)*