Covered

…. in visuals of flooring pieces.  I love helping David rack flooring.  Today as I traded this piece for that one I said, “Don’t laugh, but I always had favorite boards at our house in Virginia.”  He chuckled a little and said, “I’m not surprised.  That’s why you like laying it out and it’s the beauty of natural wood.”  I think I’m finally understanding his purist love even when composites are more durable and sometimes less messy.

…. in dust as the hours of sanding go on and on and on and on and the air is so thick we choke on it.  In spite of plastic, everything feels covered with a fine layer of dust.  Anywhere not covered is glazed over in white like donuts only far less appealing.  Speaking of donuts, I’m ravenous.   And thirsty for anything that doesn’t taste gritty.

…. in amazement that David turned me loose on the flooring for a little so he could work on other things.  I like playing with power tools even if I’m slow as molasses and sometimes had to cut a board four times (shh!).  Pretty sure no one would hire me except David (pretty sure I’m not even remotely tempted to put in an application for more than a few hours either).

…. in weariness after painting til midnight and working hard all day.  These are the hours of endless days and blink of an eye nights.  It’s a good kind of weariness though.

…. in stain samples.  The cheapest flooring we could find was a lot of white ash someone wanted to get rid of.  It’s very pretty, but tends toward cooler tones so I’m trying to mix stains for a warm but non-orange look.

…. in gratefulness for a baby who blips through like a champ and boys who help so very much with clean up and entertaining Zara and good attitudes in general.  Construction sites are not ideal for babies.  The noise of air compressors, floor sanders, and huge power nailers are relentless.  The level of dust and the smell of stain isn’t exactly healthy either. Zara is blipping through like a mini construction queen.

…. in role confusion as I switched from hanging out laundry to painting to nursing Zara to pounding flooring.  If the hat fits, wear it.

…. in grace.  There are obviously people praying us right through these awful days.  On Tuesday when I was on the verge of breaking down Liam looked at me and said, “I really appreciate you being such a joyful Mom.”  (Sometimes his word choices kill me.  Wherever did he hear the word joyful????)  “Oh, really,” I said.  “Does it help you put up with all this stuff?”

“Yeah, I’m getting kind of bored with this but it helps me feel happy when you’re joyful.”  Little does he know it takes a circle of joy going around to keep everyone’s tank full.  A few minutes later I had to run to camp for ice and I asked Miss Esther if she has any oozy gooey chocolate.  She handed me a container of fabulous spoon-worthy under baked chocolate bars to pull from and wrapped me up in a big hug.

But seriously, it feels as though God is just enveloping each of us with a supernatural cloud covering of grace.

…. in hope that two weeks from now I’ll say it was totally worth it.

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