from Asia in Switzerland
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kiene angst: A Man's home is His Castle
Stefan can not live unless something big is happening around him. He thrives on the chaos of change.
Which means I spend most of the time stepping over huge piles of the contents of whatever space he is improving at the moment. Currently the bathroom and the "entertainment centre" are under construction - the double whammy is unusual but I suspect a product of the anxiety inherant in a visit from potential inlaws... my father arrives in two weeks.
It started with moving the stove (an oil heater which is our main source of heat. Central heating is a fairly new innovation in these parts and not found in 400 year old converted water mills)
Which meant not using it for three very cold weeks because it had just been cleaned and it took him that long to get around to it.
We also have a wood stove.
I chopped wood.
City girls aren't suposed to do this. Especially born again ones like me.
I was raised by "back to the land" hippy parents. I did my time in the pioneer lifestyle. I lived in a teepee (or is tipee, tipi?)
for two years while my parents attempted to build their house. And even at four years I understood two things. First, that I wasn't going to spend my life in my parents style. Second, that they weren't meant to any more than I was.
They accomplished a sturdy foundation and sold it to a man who finished the rest in half the time.
Years later, when we moved from somewhere in the middle of the Rocky Mountains to Toronto, my father took me up to the site and said proudly (and sadly) "That was my dream house"
Which means, I think, that he will be very understanding when he arrives to all the comforts of a construction zone.
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