That's All She Wrote

I can exactly pinpoint the day I started to go a little crazy. April 27, 2012. It was the day my husband drove a large back hoe into our yard and started digging a hole to China.

A lot has happened since then.

We had a giant pit in my driveway. Nothing says wheelchair safe like a six foot drop where your sidewalk ends.

Then came the lego blocks and the concrete.

And then some floor joists.

And a few roof trusses.

Then the fun began.

My kids in harnesses, dangling in the air, helping get the roof on.

 There were a few bumps along the way. Like a wind storm that came and undid everything my husband and my kids had worked for four days to accomplish. I may have cried. I refused to photograph the carnage because it conflicted with my delusions that the zeppelin hangar would indeed one day be finished.

Common sense dictated it would eventually happen, even if Mother Nature did hate us.

But as the days passed, and progress stalled, Mother Nature mocked us and funds ran low, I began to doubt both my sanity and my husband's dream.

My anxiety was, is, at an all time high. I twitch at the sound of an air compressor or a saw. Post traumatic stress of the construction kind.

I learned a few things about humanity along the way with this build. The human mind (or at least mine) is a frail, fickle beast. People you assume will help never actually do and it is the kindness of people you barely know, new friends, that will lend a hand when you most need it.

And sisters? Both mine and his? We couldn't have done it without either the Mouse or D'Andy Long Legs. Girl power for the win. One helped physically, the other mentally and I'm grateful to them both.

In the end there was really only one giant problem with my husband's dream. Time. We didn't have enough of it.  After we started the build, my husband's job scope changed and suddenly all the time he had planned on having for building his little mancave with his own two hands evaporated in the wind. Summer storms chewed up the rest of the precious time he did have.

This meant instead of getting anything done, I sat at home and looked at a wet construction site, a half built garage and quickly lost my ever loving mind. I was often reduced to a mass of hysteria, sobbing, frustrated and mostly alone with a giant oversized stalled project.

Something had to be done, hard choices had to be made.

Oh, and did I mention my husband has done ALL of this work on a shattered ankle and postponed his surgical repair!! until October, just so he could get this damn garage done?


How could I overlook that wee painful fact? Praise heavens for ankle braces, advil and cheap beer.

The zeppelin hangar won't be completed this year as planned. At least, not the interior of it. But we're hoping to get it functional with a floor, doors and power before the snow flies.

My husband did what he had to do to get the outside done. Thank heavens for it. My mental health depended on it.

As of 5 pm this last Friday, the zeppelin hangar not only has a finished roof, but is completely sided and trimmed out.

So she's a tad large. Boys and their, um, garages. I comfort myself in the fact the aliens in outerspace will be able to find us and have somewhere to land.


At least she's pretty. And I do enjoy confusing my neighbours who currently think we are starting a farming operation in our driveway. I mean, why else did we build the world's biggest barn? IN OUR FRONT YARD.

I'm never. Ever. EVER. doing construction again. You know, at least until next spring when we have to finish the interior. And bright side: At least I have all winter to twirl around a pole to save money to pay for those construction costs AND my anxiety meds.

Something tells me I'm going to need a lot of loonies to cover the expenses.


A big thanks to Daniel, Neil and Rory for all their hard work in helping my husband's dreams come true and saving my sanity along the way. Be sure to come back next spring when we're ready to do the drywall.