The last month has been rough. I haven't posted anything on the blog because my mother and father taught me that if I had nothing nice to say, I shouldn't say it at all.
Out of a possible 12 days working, I have been off sick for six of them. My run of illness ended with a day in hosptial with contractions from dehydration after catching a nasty virus. Not a good thing at only 27 weeks pregnant. The shack is damp, mouldy, muddy and smelly after only a week of rain. I am under no illusion as to why the three of us are getting so sick. Water runoff from the build is travelling straight under the shack forming a virtual mud stream. Last night we heard an unfamilliar bang which sounded very much like a house pier falling over.
Since late May, progress on site has been at a virtual standstill. In 30 days, the only work that has been finished is backfill behind the wall and the last two days of cladding work on the top pavillion. The concreting for the slab has been delayed and delayed and delayed. I was warned by more than one person that watching in action would be painful. They were right. With the due date for bubby no. 2 drawing closer, the inaction on site has been depressing.
The post today should be a turning point. Two days of work last week has meant that the subfloor for the next wing is up. But most of all, 143 days after I declared on Facebook that the concrete truck was coming in two weeks, the concrete slab has finally been poured.
Let's hope it is a good sign. I have a glimmer of optimism left and I'm going to try and hold onto it.
