They say that when it rains, it pours. And in this season of our lives, when it pours, we’re getting drenched because our home isn’t built yet! Delay after delay, somehow we’re still (foolishly?) optimistic about getting this tiny house project done in time to have somewhere to live this fall.
Tiny house trailer Dan Louche
Tiny house trailer
It was an exciting day when our trailer arrived one snowy day back in March, although little did we know it would take over three months for us to be ready to attach any house to it. Sigh. Multiple illnesses, morning sickness, computer problems, erased framing plans, design changes, blizzards, and so much more. The task of registering the trailer alone somehow required visits to three dealerships and four trips to the DMV.
The beginning of Memorial weekend, my husband was chasing our four-year-old, Little Rig, around the house and slid into the kitchen island. Crack! One of his toes broke in three places. Two weeks off work and taking it easy after that. Luckily, Rig was unscathed and now further enjoyed having Daddy on vacation!
Horse bites summer tiny house
The biter
Later, on a trip to pick up our raw milk at the dairy, we wandered over to the nearby corral to give Jack the Horse a pet. Suddenly, he whipped his head around and bit me on the leg! An ugly, blue pancake-sized bruise soon emerged. Thankfully, nearly-2-year-old Firebell, whom I was holding, didn’t get her little foot within the horse’s powerful teeth. Disaster averted.
Coupled with that, now that I’m six months along with baby #3, my hip gets a sore catch by the end of the day, and I start hobbling around in the evening. So Big Country and I, each nursing a sore hip, bruised leg, or painful foot, comically limp around, attempting to chase down the kids, fix dinner, hang diapers, and everything else. “I’ll rub you!” chime in the kids enthusiastically, and their massages often turn into jumping-on-Daddy games.
We’ve had snags and delays with the materials, too. The alpaca wool insulation took an incredible 50 days to arrive because of “the Ohio storms,” the lady told me over the phone. What? Are they delivering the wool . . . on the backs of alpacas? I wondered.
Tiny house prep Lowe’s lily
A lily in the parking lot at Lowe’s.
Another day, picking up a piece of pressurized plywood at Lowes, it took four employees 20 minutes to figure out how use the strapping I had brought to lash it down to the roof rack. Despite the heat, the kids had a blast sitting under the shade of a bush in the parking lot and watching fork lifts and a semi go to work.
Then, later that evening on the road, one strap snapped. THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! went the plywood over and over on the top of the car. “Yay!” exclaimed the kids. We pulled over to the side of the road to wait. Momentarily, I thought about shimmying up there in my skirt with my big belly to try my luck with the straps, but no. Big Country and a co-worker were nearby and arrived soon to properly secure it. Meanwhile, the kids explored, smelled flowers, and climbed rocks.
tiny house prep plywood
The kids having fun while we re-strap the plywood.
The thing is, the big picture is still bright. I am thankful for all the unseen progress we’ve made, even though the trailer is still bare and our time of knowing where we’re living is dwindling down to the mere weeks. Even in uncertainty, we go through our days happy and optimistic, keeping diligent in our work, because “we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).
Big Country and I just celebrated nine years of marriage, a bond that has strengthened and sweetened through hardships, moves, disappointments, and challenges. I am glad God brought us together, that there is a purpose and maturing through storms, and that there is a bright sun to look for afterward.
Big Country Liberty anniversary roses