"You Nevah Write, You Nevah Call...."

Yes, it's true. I've been a bad communicator. It' not just the blog, it's also the coffee dates and the Skype dates--all have been neglected. Mostly that's because I've been busy working and building. But also there's the storytelling issue. I like a story that has a beginning, middle and end. You know, a conflict resolved, a problem dealt with. But right now this house-building is a story with multiple ongoing plot-lines, only a few of which have begun to show any signs of resolution.

Here's one: it's the story of the interior walls that were going up at a great pace  until  I ran out of wool and had to decide whether to order more and have extra, or try to sub in something else. 
I ordered more and waited for it to arrive. True, there was plenty to do while I waited for it to arrive, but I was still annoyed

by the "not quite done" appearance  of those walls, taunting me while I did other things.
Oregon Shepherd got the wool out quickly, I went to work on installing the paneling, insulating behind it as I went, and then--sand, and brush, brush and sand--today I put on the last coat of finish, Yay!

There's also the story of  rafter construction, an involved process, described here and revisited repeatedly throughout the build. Each one had to be constructed individually, concurrent with our other tasks.  Then sanded, finished, notched to fit on top the walls, checked,  adjusted and installed--phew!
Yesterday we installed the last one! 
A friend had stopped by to see how the build was going and I got a picture of her looking up as a very satisfied builder looked down from said rafters. 
So those are two  things that are showing some level of completion, but really, until those two things happened, I felt adrift in a sea of ongoing sanding and finishing and painting and discussing and decision making.

Last rafter in-- Jim breathes a sigh of relief!

Each day we arrive at the house and one of us will say, "What do you want to work on today?" And then we're  busy all afternoon, sometimes together, sometimes separately, chipping away at whatever's next.

The lack of landmarks at this point in the process, the sheer number of individual tasks, and the onset of cooler weather,  have combined to give me occasional fits of anxiety. But then  friends will come by and comment on the progress that has been made, or someone will text to say they're proud of what I'm doing. That helps. 

So does standing back and seeing the rafters all in place, like a set of giant, prehistoric ribs. When you stand under them they define a space that is both archetypal and uplifting.
I like to watch visitors as they step carefully into the house, survey the interior space, and then look up. Most stand there for a moment, eyes tracing the contours of the barely defined overhead space, and then try to put words on what they see and feel.  Very often it's a simple, "Wow! I like the curves!" Although things will naturally be more closed in when the floor is raised and the ceiling is up, the curved rafters will still be visible and  I'm sure that some of that feeling will remain.