Digging Ourselves into a Hole

Last Thursday began a new phase of our project. The excavator arrived to begin digging our foundation/basement extension. By Saturday morning, we had a sizeable hole behind the house.

Saturday was a typical day where we had way too much going on. I was running around all morning doing errands, and Mike was supervising the dig. At about 11 a.m., I came home from the bank so Mike could sign something I had to take to another bank that same morning. I arrived expecting to hear a whole lot of clatter coming from the backyard, but everything was quiet. The excavation crew was gone, and so was my husband.

As I set my purse and keys on the kitchen island, I saw a big note that said, "The crew hit the water line while they were digging. I went to the store to get parts to fix it."

My heart sank. I turned on the faucet, and sure enough, not a drop of water emerged. Given the drama we had recently gone through with our well, I should have been used to this problem, but we had to get ready for my cousin's wedding in a couple of hours. Trying to remain calm, I ate lunch and waited for Mike to come home.

He soon arrived carrying a bag full of piping and wires. He explained how he would fix the water line in plenty of time to get ready for the wedding.

"But what if they hit the water line again?" I demanded.

He reached into his bag, pulling out more piping and wires, and said, "Don't worry. I bought enough stuff that they could break the line three times, and we'd still be fine."

True to his word, he fixed the line, and the excavators promised they would be really careful (until we left for the wedding, that is.) We managed to foof and jeuge ourselves in plenty of time.

We had a great time at the wedding, which was a really nice break from all of the construction. Here is the happy couple:

And of all the pictures I took that day, this one is my favorite! That was one tired ring bearer (and that was before the ceremony even started.)