So this is the picture I keep going to. This is my fantasy.
My future kitchen isn’t exactly like this, mine will have a full window that runs from end to end, but the brushed concrete floor and the timber cupboards with the concrete slab top – that’s what my kitchen is going to look like.
So I’ve shown you the fantasy. This is the reality, this is what my current house looks like.
That’s our block of land. Our very empty, no water, no electricity, no wifi, no sewage block of land. About 20 minutes before this pic was taken we’d signed the mortgage papers, we then drove straight to the block and dreamt of all the possibilities it could provide. A bedroom for each child, somewhere to store the surfboards, a space for me to write and work. The biggest thing though? This was the most optimistic thing we could possibly do. Plan for the future.
There’s me, bottom left, completely bald. Me, full of chemo with my chipmunk steroid cheeks, squinting into the sun. I felt like death that day (is it bad to say that when you’ve had/having cancer). Seriously though, that day wasn’t one of my shining moments. It was one of those cancer is an arse days. When you know you’re being robbed of something. This was meant to be a day of champagne and high jumps, instead, after this shot, I did the cancer shuffle home and spent the afternoon working from the couch.
But that was nine months ago now.
I now have eyebrows, time, and a house to build.
Life is good.
Ever built a house? Tips? Tricks? Anything to share? Shall I bore you with progress shots? Let me know…