My Dad is a builder, a very good one, and a renaissance man as well. One of the people he built a house for had a dinner when the job was completed for everyone who was involved in the project. The owner stood and praised my father saying that my Dad had his hand in everything having to do with that beautiful home. Basically, his touch could be found on every inch of the house.
It is the same with our home... David has left an imprint on everything you see when you look around our home. In just gazing around the house memories flood my mind about drywall, plumbing, framing, siding etc., and I remember conversations with him about what occurred during every step of the construction. I remember helping dig out the footings and having to find a spot where Delta and Cosmo could dig too without kicking sand into the foundation holes. I recall David's excitement about starting the framing with my Dad and him telling me how much he was learning from him, and then his heartbreak when he broke his ankle and could not be on the job for several days to continue working with Dad. His pride in his father's masonry work and in his ability to join in and pour the cement, and lay the blocks and bricks right along with him. I smile when I remember him showing me the 'new' placement of the doorbell ringer and how David would smile to himself while listening to me and Kaye the electrician try to talk to each other from one room to the next while pulling wires through the wall. David's persistence and insistence on doing the drywall and texturing himself when most people would not have even attempted it. Even now, while doing the trim work around the house I see him smile to himself whenever he pulls his friend Phillip's nail set out of his pocket to use. Phillip always carried that darn thing around with him when he was doing construction stuff, and (I must say) quite bossily insisted on using it... now David understands why.
You know, the difference between building your own home and moving into one already constructed by someone else is that when you build your own home you move into a house that is already filled with memories... instead of moving into a house that is a complete stranger to you. Don't get me wrong, having a new home either way is a wonderful thing. However, given the choice I prefer the lingering echoes of the voices, the laughter, and the cursing from the construction process of a self built home.
David has done a wonderful job, I hope he is proud of himself. I know I am very proud of him. On a daily basis, he adds to the list of things he has accomplished... and the bonus for me is that he has one hell of a smile and his mad scientist glasses make me blush! ;)
I mean promising young man
I mean promising young man
Probably a good thing we did not meet at that time in our lives.
That could have been trouble. Both of us had some living to do. By the way, for those of you who do not know, David's friend Phillip was married to my friend Lynette. Phillip and Lynette dated in High School and later married... in fact David married them. I was a bridesmaid and my daughter Amber was a flower girl. I don't even know if David and I were introduced then. We knew about each other because our friends were married. (I heard the stories anyway) However, we had never really officially met until a few years ago when David moved to join with Phillip in a new business venture. Which brings me back to the list...
Planning and design
Finish carpentry... no not Finnish... finish.
What is next?
I dunno but I have to tell you I am sure happy to have joined in the ride.
He is quite a man.