Failure is an opportunity

Did I mention we are building a house?

Not having a house built, which would be the smart way to wind up with a dwelling place, but actually doing some of the building ourselves. 

The first stages of this discussion were reminiscent of Ben’s thoughts regarding raising cows, which were that you just put them in the field and they eat grass. How hard can it be?

As it turns out, when temperatures are below freezing and you rely on a float to start and stop water flow to the stock tank, it can be hard. I also remember one winter in the mountains of Western North Carolina when it was all of three (3) degrees at feeding time and the brewer’s grain was frozen solid in the barrels. I found that out after I had used an actual sledge hammer to break the ice in the stock tank and then scoop it out so it wouldn’t immediately refreeze. All this while Ben was working a job in another state, leaving me with the “how hard can it be” job of caring for the cattle during the week. This is true love. But I digress.

Ben is an eternal optimist when it comes to his ability to do things, which is exactly the opposite of how I think. I am convinced I need help to do everything. He thinks he can do anything, and I love how positive and self-affirming that is. One time years ago when we had three of our five children in college and the other two in braces, he was always looking for side work in addition to his regular job in government contracting. He offered to remodel a bathroom for a co-worker. When he told me about it, I said with alarm, “You don’t know how to lay tile,” and he responded like it was no big deal, “I’ll learn.”

On somebody else’s bathroom.

Another time he and our two sons tore the back off half of our house because we didn’t like the prefab fireplace or the narrow windows. The idea was to put a wood stove in the corner of the living room and two big windows looking out over the back yard and the woods beyond.

(For the record, that blond child is now 29 with a wife and four children.)

We chose a lovely summer day for this project and started demo-ing, which happens to be our specialty. We can destroy anything in record time. When the entire back wall was missing from the house, we began to hear distant rumbling, because of course. The boys had enough time to put in some rough framing and hang tarps before a whopping summer thunderstorm hit.

The darkness is not night; it is the impending storm. Please note that only one window is in, there is a gaping hole in the roof, and tarps have not yet been hung.

We live an exciting life. But enough stories.

When we decided last year that our best option was to build a house on the farm rather than buy one somewhere else and commute to the cows for the rest of our lives, my idea was to hire a general contractor who would oversee the building of it, because last time I checked, neither Ben nor I had ever built an actual house. There is a little shed-thing on the side of the barn that houses some pipes, but only a groundhog can live in it.

Ben’s idea was slightly different. He would be his own GC. He would get some buddies to come “help” frame it. Then he would pull the wire and do the plumbing because 39 years ago he was a plumber’s helper for six months and how hard can it be? Do you see a pattern?

After the basement block was laid and the floor poured, we arranged for our son-in-law (God bless him, he is an actual builder of actual buildings) to come for two weeks and be in charge of the framing crew. He brought a guy who works for him and knows a lot of things. There were also other men who build for a living who came with trucks full of tools and professional-looking tool belts and generously gave of their time and energy to help us get the house in the dry, which we almost did before it rained. But summer sun and heat and breezes happened and it was all good. No mold is growing.

Did you know there are about 8,000 other little things that have to happen before you can begin pulling wire and running pipe? We didn’t either. Many of them involve the help of our very generous friend who happens to be a GC and is keeping us from making a disaster of our future house.

After months of Ben working his brains out (plus his regular job and all the farm work and ministry trips), we finally had our rough-in inspection today.

We failed.

And as all the famous leadership gurus say, failure is an opportunity to learn.

In this case we learned that when you secure wire to a stud, you can’t put the staples in too tight or else (insert long electrical explanation that includes possible home on fire). Fortunately for us, we will not need to remember this lesson because believe me when I say we are never building another house. I will be dying in this one with my walk-in pantry and mud room and clawfoot tub, thankyouverymuch.

So we will remove a few staples and run some new wire, then replace the fire caulk that is going to be trashed by all the pulling out and putting in of new wire. How hard can it be? Haha I crack myself up.

Next is insulation, sheetrock (which we just found out is not available at this time; please check back in JANUARY), siding, and getting the garage floor poured, none of which we are doing, praise the Lord. After that, paint and flooring and trim and I’m sure there are another 8,000 things I don’t know about yet but will soon learn.

What’s the takeaway here? You don’t know as much as you think you know, which is why you pay someone who does. But also, if you pay that person to build your house you don’t get to experience the joy of doing it yourself.

Take your pick.

Also, I love my husband very much and appreciate his incredible work ethic and his melt-my-heart desire to build me a house that has everything I want. He is wonderful in every way and will not be offended by this post.