Under construction

As I've mentioned before, the older I get, the more of a homebody I see myself become. It’s my place of refuge, even if much of my time spent there is spent on cleaning, laundry, and kitchen duty. However, every once in a while, something upsets the balance of my home. Lately, that has been construction work to finish our lower level (previously just an unfinished storage room…but soon to be our new office).

Fortunately, the workers are there when I’m at work myself, and we have no other living spaces on that level of our home. Still, we come in from our garage to a mess of construction dust and plastic curtains, and I can’t seem to get upstairs fast enough. And because the workers leave the door wide open when they’re working, I spend my evening chasing after gigantic flies who have found their way inside. It’s just weird knowing that while I’m at work, strange men are entering my home and using my bathroom every day (yes, these are the kinds of weird things I think about).

Then, when we do cross paths with the workers, it’s not easy to communicate with them. Earlier this week the hubs stopped home and told one of the workers when he was leaving so they would know to shut the garage door when they left; in response, the guy gave him a confusing look, smiled, and simply pointed to another guy who actually spoke some English.

I’ve known many people who have lived in home construction for months or even years at a time (including plenty of do-it-yourself types) and I have to give those people credit. I hope we never have to move to a “fixer-upper.” I can’t wait to feel fully settled at home again. After all, there’s no place like it!