Our story so far: While Tyler built walls and ceilings, the HVAC guys, the plumber and the electrician worked their magic in the 126-year-old Methodist church we were turning into our dream home.
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Notwithstanding a late-spring snowstorm that left inches of heavy, wet snow behind in Old Man Winter’s ridiculously long wake, spring arrived and so did Phase Three of our renovation: Drywall, Paint & Flooring.
Long, sunshiny days replaced months of gray skies. Slivers of green poked through dirty snow. Though strange to hear birds singing as I tramped over snowy sidewalks no one bothered to shovel because they knew it would melt soon enough, I shed my fleece scarf as I inhaled the frosty air on my way from the rental house to the church in the morning. Spring was my favorite season of the year, and ever-widening sidewalks were as distinctive a turning point to me as robins. Growing up, I walked to school in north-central Minnesota; in winter, it was a slippery trudge in boots, but in springtime, I could skip over clean concrete in my Nike tennies.
Earlier, before the snowstorm, Tyler made note of the maple tree in our front yard that was dripping sap like mad. In another spring when we weren’t so preoccupied by construction, he planned to tap the tree for its sweet syrup. Leafy green perennials in every corner of the yard toughed out the white stuff. It looked like we’d have blooms of some sort soon. Tyler’s hired man St. Johnny spread a load of mulch around trees and over the flower bed once tended by members of the church.
Soon, we would have to mow. Tyler also snapped up a deal on eBay for a riding lawnmower he intended to teach me to use. I preferred the push variety, and I scoffed that we’d have any yard left after he poured concrete for the driveway and garage, but I couldn’t complain too long. The practically new mower was a good deal, and we picked it up from the seller less than forty minutes away.
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Tomorrow: We pass the test. Read more about it here.