At times it feels as if what we are building is a sacred space as I supposed every home should be. A place of connection and belonging. A safe haven and creative oasis, no matter how small or what it is built of. A place built in part of prayers and dreams, alongside grit and gusto to bring both to life.

One by one we lift beams with the crane, lower them on sawhorses where we carefully measure and cut then manhandle into place, steady, fine tune and fasten as the definition of place slowly begins to take shape, and the feeling of space begins to come to life.

With each one we work on, we can trace a story back to the once towering doug fir that shaded our morning walk while the early sun dappled through high branches and dogs scampered below chasing rabbits through the underbrush. With beetles and drought and changing times, we observed the tree faded and paled and needles fallen and altered into the dead standing trees we felled, cleaned then dragged to our mill yard, then together hoisted and cut and turned and cut again until rot was removed (stacked and piled and burned separately) and all that remained was this solid center that is becoming a part of a home. Each one already containing the energies of how much time and attention and intention to get this far, to get us this far.

And yes, I’m out there working too. It’s all been a two person operation. But one of us is better with a chainsaw and backhoe, and the other better with the mill… and camera.

And she cooks… But that’s something I’ll dive into another time… (Look out.)

Now, when I prepare meals (which is something I do every day) I truly consider the energy that I add to the food I (usually) serve with love. There was a movie I saw years ago called “Like Water For Chocolate” that coyly played with this belief.

What we put into it, comes out of it.

Is it not the same with walls we build as with a pot of stew we stir?

Hope and passion, dreams and desires, strength and resolve embedded in every piece of the wall that together we then cut and carry and fit into place and secure into a structure that is a part of this home.

Until next time,

With love, always love,

Gin