Karen Kehrli:  

ers thought it would be a good idea to nail the tarps down on the old second floor so they would not blow away. Well, the rain came down and about one o’clock we woke to the sound of someone peeing on the bed. Robert threw on the light and there was water coming in through the ceiling right on to our mattress. We got a bunch of buckets and began playing musical raindrops as the water upstairs shifted and came in at different points. At one point we ran out of bowls and I started to catch the rain in my cupped hands. We were both laughing as only the very overtired can do. Eventually the internal rainstorm subsided and Robert tossed an extra mattress on the floor of the dry yet unfinished new addition and my three year old, Sarah, and I stayed in our bed on the dry half. Then at 6:30 in the morning it really started to rain and it rained in every room of the house. Water poured in like there were faucets in the ceilings. I felt like Winnie the Pooh with his honey pots in the Blustery Day story as we positioned bowls in the bathroom, the living room, our room and the kitchen. The construction crew became well acquainted with our feelings regarding indoor rain. Later that day, the weather temporarily subsided and they removed the tarps and were working upstairs again. A storm burst on them and one of the workers ran to pull the tarp over the exposed area. He missed his footing and fell through the living room ceiling. Fortunately he did not get hurt. Although it has finally stopped raining rain and men indoors, it still continues to rain sawdust and dirt. And the end is no where in site. I’ve always thought that I would like to take a year and do the pioneer thing: building a cabin and living off the land, being completely self-sufficient (with the exception of a few modern amenities—soft toilet paper, good soap and shampoo, effective birth control). But I think I’ve outgrown that now.