What A Difference A Day Makes...

 We dropped off our youngest at his work last week. We waited a moment until the crew showed up, then we left to run errands. 

Several hours later, the building rose from a flat foundation...

It had walls.

Okay, not solid walls--framed walls, but still...a 3-D structure.

Watching my son and his crew create the house from literally the ground up takes us back, back a few decades when my wife and I put in a ton of sweat equity on our first house. I took off work to help frame. Not sure how much I actually helped (it was just our builder and me...), but it was exciting and fascinating. Not growing up in a builder's world, I wasn't used to seeing a building take shape.

Once enclosed, we worked on the flooring, the electrical, the painting. These are things my son is learning and will be learning as the house rises from the weeds.

For years and years my uncle--my father's youngest sibling--taught homebuilding at Clearfield High School in Utah. It's almost unconceivable to think a student could learn a life-long skill, a trade at such a young age. I wish they still taught homebuilding in high school.

They're teaching it in other places, though.

We saw the walls and it took me back. I thought of my father who built my childhood home. I thought of our own house. I thought it's an amazing trade to pursue, a fulfilling craft creating homes for families where memories will start and flourish, where those inside will discuss/possibly fight over wall decor, house plants, even pets. And my son is part of that industry.

What an wonderful adventure.