The builders think nothing of chunks of snow on their tarps or woodpile. Much less of the mud that clings to their boots as they deliberately add lumber sheets to the trusses forming the subfloor on the foundation enclosing the crawl space. The ground there within, the four foot depths of it are swathed in thick white plastic to provide a barrier to the dirt and damp beneath my eventual house.

There's a new wall on the west side with a door frame built in but the expanse of it is not yet cut out...it's only an intended door with a lintel and jamb in place on the graphed surface of the thick particle board that is standing there awaiting the carving of it into usefulness. That corner ells the back wall which is still incomplete and only half standing up to the south. The rest of it lies down in await of erection, while two window are placed and not yet cut out in the part that now stands expectantly. One will be a bathroom window to the left of the wash bowl, the other one will be in the bedroom. Both are big southern views waiting blindly their first sunsets.

We walk the dogs over the thick particle sub floor out into the mud of the back yard, legs skidding past the sometime purring and growling Bobcat which sits at night amid its attachments. There's a fork lift and a plow blade and a shovel that have dug and pushed piles of back yard into small mountains the dogs want to scale but we leash them back from the too muddy height of the hills. Too muddy for mom, these eight big hairy black Flaprador Retriever and Pitbull paws that will want to come back inside so to get warmed up again after chilly doggie curiosity is satisfied and canine bowels' have had their relief spells.

It's tiring, messy and terribly exciting.

Sprtcs