Day 4: Dust, Dreams & Building Something Worth Coming Home To

It's 5:00 a.m.

Again.

Can someone please explain why my body believes five o'clock is the perfect time to wake up? I keep telling myself one day I'll sleep in... but apparently that day isn't today.

So there I was, still wrapped up in the world's coziest bed, answering emails before my feet even touched the floor. Looking back, maybe sending messages at five in the morning isn't my best idea. If your phone dings before sunrise because of me, I apologize in advance.

But there's something satisfying about starting the day with an empty inbox.

The best part wasn't the emails, though.

It was waking up to Chris feeling good.

Yesterday's procedure went really well, and when I started moving around, he woke up too. Instead of feeling miserable, he grabbed the dog and headed outside for a little walk.

That alone made today feel like a good day.

I probably should have gone with him...

Instead, I chose the warm blankets.

No regrets.

Before I even got out of bed, I noticed something else that made me smile.

Ten new bookings.

I still get excited every single time someone decides to trust us with their retreat. It doesn't matter if it's the first booking or the fiftieth, I still stop and smile before adding it to the calendar.

Then my brain immediately switched into design mode.

The desks.

Who knew desks would become one of the hardest decisions of this entire project?

When I think about crafting, sewing, quilting, or scrapbooking, I don't think about squeezing into a tiny workspace.

I think BIG.

I want six-foot adjustable desks with L-shaped returns.

I love my adjustable desk at home. It lets me stand when my feet begin swelling, which helps so much with my POTS. One of my friends is petite and is always looking for something to rest her feet on during retreats because tables are too tall. Adjustable desks solve that problem too.

That's what I want Outcrop to be.

A place that adjusts to people, not the other way around.

Then came the color dilemma.

I keep picturing beautiful light wood desktops with white accents. The basement already has dark wood floors and a dark wet bar. I don't want to make the room feel heavy.

I want bright.

Warm.

Creative.

A room that makes you want to sit down and stay all day.

The problem?

Finding sixteen desks that are exactly what I want.

Apparently every manufacturer believes giant desks should have seams running right through the middle.

I don't want seams.

Maybe I'm overthinking it.

Maybe once your cutting mat is sitting on top you'll never notice.

But...

Overthinking decorating is practically my hobby.

I even found one desk that seemed perfect until one review claimed it took four people three-and-a-half hours to assemble.

No.

I refuse to believe that.

Either they skipped the instructions...

Skipped the coffee...

Or maybe started with margaritas.

Because that just doesn't make sense.

By this point it was already later than I planned, but before heading to the house I stopped by my community garden.

Or at least I tried to.

The water was turned off.

I'm part of DUG (Denver Urban Gardens), so there wasn't much I could do except make a mental note to come back later.

It wasn't frustrating.

It was just another reminder that life doesn't stop because you're busy chasing one dream.

The garden still needs me too.

I did, however, find one giant cucumber hiding in the vines, and for whatever reason that completely made my morning.

Sometimes it's the little things.

Then Athena came home from Pilates.

I was supposed to go with her.

Clearly that didn't happen.

Instead, she walked through the door with exciting news.

She got an internship through her college.

I'm unbelievably proud of her.

She's spent months trying to decide whether to move back to Denver to help me with Outcrop while finishing school here or stay where she is.

I think this opportunity helped answer that question.

As much as I'd love having her close by...

Watching your kids find the path that's right for them is pretty incredible too.

A few minutes later my phone rang.

It was my son, Ryleigh.

Now, apparently I've taught this kid entirely too well because he completely faked me out.

He started telling me he'd have to spend more time there and made it sound like he hadn't passed.

For just a second...

I believed him.

Then he laughed.

He passed.

He's officially a private pilot.

How amazing is that?

One minute you're teaching your kids how to ride a bike...

The next you're watching them fly airplanes.

Literally.

By this point it was after 8:00 in the morning.

I'd answered emails.

Booked retreats.

Celebrated an internship.

Celebrated a brand-new pilot.

Checked on the garden.

Written part of this blog.

And somehow...

I still hadn't made it to the house.

Once I finally arrived, I realized something.

Cleaning wasn't actually the hard part today.

When I say we're cleaning the house, I don't mean polishing countertops.

I mean we're removing nearly twenty years of dust.

We vacuum.

We mop.

We sweep.

Then a few hours later it looks like we never touched the floor because there's still so much dust floating through the air that it settles all over again.

But every single day it feels cleaner.

Healthier.

More alive.

Today wasn't about decorating.

It wasn't about furniture.

Today was all about bringing this house back to life.

The garage technician spent almost the entire day replacing garage door motors and rollers.

The doors now work beautifully.

Unfortunately, the garage electrical doesn't.

So while one problem got solved, another immediately introduced itself.

Welcome to home ownership.

Then came one of the systems I cared about most.

The mini-split air conditioning.

Let's be honest.

Nobody wants to scrapbook, quilt, sew, or craft in a house that's a thousand degrees.

Yesterday someone had me convinced we'd be opening walls because the system had supposedly been installed incorrectly.

Thankfully...

That wasn't true.

The technician flipped a switch, and the units came to life.

Huge relief.

The systems do still need attention. The insulation wasn't finished correctly, drain lines need to be secured, everything needs to be cleaned, and there were hoses leaking where they shouldn't have been.

There was water everywhere.

Thankfully, he's confident it's outside the walls and not inside them.

He'll be back Monday to finish everything properly.

For now...

I'll happily take air conditioning.

The boiler and radiant floor heat can wait until next week.

Who needs heat in July anyway?

While all of that was happening, another contractor inspected the roof, deck, windows, and exterior.

Several upstairs windows have broken exterior panes.

The basement windows will likely need replacing altogether.

We also found unfinished tubing around the outside of the house that needs to be sealed before mice decide Outcrop looks like a great place to move into.

No thank you.

So next week's growing list includes:

Finish the mini-splits.

Service the boiler.

Inspect the radiant floor heat.

Seal every exterior opening.

Replace broken glass.

Schedule a new roof.

Continue checking every major system.

And this...

This is just the beginning.

Somewhere in the middle of all of this I noticed...

We don't even have a doorbell.

The wires are literally sticking out of the wall waiting for one.

It made me laugh.

It's funny how you start by worrying about giant projects like roofs and HVAC systems, then suddenly realize nobody ever finished installing the doorbell.

Meanwhile...

All I want to do is decorate.

I wanted to spend today measuring rooms and ordering furniture.

Instead every room was filled with contractors.

Who, for some reason...

Were all named Chris.

My husband Chris.

Garage Chris.

HVAC Chris.

Roof Chris.

By the end of the day everyone answered whenever someone yelled, "Hey Chris!"

It became a running joke.

I'm still working on flushing the well too.

Seeing yellow water come out of the faucets definitely catches your attention, but everyone assures me that's completely normal after pipes have sat unused for years.

Old minerals.

Old sediment.

A sleeping house waking back up.

I'll feel much better once it's been completely flushed, treated, and inspected.

By the end of the day...

I was exhausted.

Athena filmed a few fun videos.

We celebrated her internship.

We celebrated my son's private pilot's license.

We talked about my birthday coming up.

We talked about launching Outcrop.

We laughed.

We worked.

We dreamed.

And despite everything...

I can finally see it.

I can picture sixteen women sitting around beautiful craft tables.

Coffee brewing.

Projects spread everywhere.

Laughter echoing through the house.

Friendships beginning.

Memories being made.

My brain keeps jumping ahead.

I already want to remove the upper kitchen cabinets and replace them with beautiful open shelving.

Chris quickly reminds me that's probably Phase Three... or Four... or Five.

He's right.

First the systems.

Then the furniture.

Then decorating.

Then maybe my pretty shelves.

Oh... and somewhere in there we apparently need to buy a mower big enough for thirty-five acres.

Luckily someone is coming next week to mow the five acres surrounding the house, clean it up, create a fire break, and make the property look cared for again.

One contractor.

One repair.

One dusty room.

One dream.

Every single day this old house feels a little less abandoned...

...and a little more like Outcrop Manor.

And I honestly cannot wait for the day you walk through the front door and experience it for yourself.