locked

338:365

I needed to check on something in the house today after work and couldn't get in. Garage doorways boarded and all exterior doors locked for the first time ever.

It was a weird feeling. I've visited that job site almost daily since July 3, and today was the first day I couldn't roam freely. I was there this morning, before all that, so it's not like I missed a day.

I'm quite fine with it, as there's a reason it's secure now and I'm actually the one who requested it.

Still. I need a key. Like, now. MY HOUSE. Gimme a key.

It's coming along. Slowly but beautifully.

Is it wrong to say that I love every square inch of it? It's just a house, after all. Just a building in which to live.

And yet...those are the bricks WE selected, the shingles WE chose. Each outlet is where it is because WE said it should go there.

The bricks are my favorite part. Maybe because I agonized over them for months (not the color, the shape and style - we selected the color almost immediately after receiving the sample board). I looked at roman, at king. I lost sleep trying to figure it out.

And then I did, thanks to some help from Mr. Frank Lloyd Wright, a brilliant sod. And afterwards I worried more about if we made the right decision. What would it look like? No one has a striped brick pattern, for Pete's sake. Just what was I trying to pull off here?

So I held my breath the day they started laying, and went to work and tried to not think about it, about the fact that they were laying what could be a monumental mistake that was literally set in stone.

I nearly cried with relief when I saw it. Subtle, gorgeous, distinctive stripes that change with the light. Just what I wanted.

And I will get to live there.

You know, once they give me a key and all.