Our "house" isn't currently looking like much of a house. The fact is, our house is pretty much a gutted brick box. When people ask "how is the project coming along," or "when will the house be finished," I rarely have a good answer. So far, the saying seems to be true: building a house will always take twice as long as you had anticipated. I promised myself that I would find contentment throughout this journey, though. So far, the waiting process (more-so than the "building" process) hasn't been too much of a bother to me.
The ambiguity of the whole situation (living out of a bag, hopping to and from numerous short-term living circumstances, having no "start-date" and certainly no "end date" in sight) has enlightened me to how little control I actually have in this life of mine...and how little I truly need.
Every week I visit our empty little box. I turn the key to the locks (belonging to an old, metal office door) and step inside to the smell of the old wooden floors, the feeling of brisk air, and the still quietness. I always look forward to this moment. Sometimes when I go to pick up the mail, I'll walk around for a minute or two, just imagining what the space will be like someday.
For now, we are patiently awaiting the "OK" from the city (and building permits) in order to truly start the project. Until then, we are still hopping from rental, to spare bedroom (thank God for our hospitable friends), to rental again. And, for better or for worse, this nomadic lifestyle is something I'm becoming quite familiar with.
I'll be posting on our latest Airbnb stay soon!