![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjYxa8kRH1SsZJsdEPryFFdm-ZL2vId_zBMNMAk4AoraAAY3VdgCFNR1EHxyFnF_JS0wOvVG7tVuh-Hdv8A4hp4z7c-t7hqdaYX7fWuWl_6S8rWdcHq6X0n0D1ifiw5P_adwTELatAKTu3/s320/day1s.jpg)
It was Josie's first complete sentence (that we could understand). What was the noise? Construction. Drilling. Hammering. Bulldozers (although Ian insists that the thing I call a bulldozer is not, in fact, a bulldozer. It's some other thing I can never remember the name of. Neither here nor there, really.)
So it's been a month. Our house has gone from completely livable (with mildly annoying issues) to, well, the opposite of that. It started slowly, with a 3-week delay starting on day 1. (yes, day 1.) Which actually wasn't a bad thing, because we got used to using the half-constructed back side of the house as a giant covered porch. And being able to go from the outside straight into the bathroom has its benefits when you've got young children. I miss that part. Because here is where we are now:
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgltyaNzPDDViRaT6BF1FG90IECPvUvPS1Dldi8g4o28BFqxqKOxt90_g_fvsOFiLrjHctFUM9gRsZZ45v1PfbMok6Xm7BLKybjzRZY4a1V56tSMiIEVYD31knKmylG_1HcDLelLRktwgHH/s320/LIZ_0286s.jpg)
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