The first thing I’ve learn about building a home is this: you’ve got to pour the foundation before you can frame. And the second thing? The world of contractors is a small one.
When the Israeli sub-contractor showed up at 8 a.m. with his crew last week, I said “good morning” to him in Hebrew. He smiled.
That night, I got home from work, and Chris gave me a hug. “I had an interesting conversation with the foundation guy today.”
“He said to me, ‘I know your wife from somewhere. But I just don’t know where.’ ”
I raised my eyebrows at him because I could guess where this might be going.
Chris went on: “I told him, ‘Oh, I know where you know my wife from.’ ”
“Then I asked if he knew your Israeli ex. And he said, ‘That’s it!’ ” (My Israeli ex was a foundation guy, too.)
At the end of the day, I guess it’s a relief that it wasn’t my ex who poured our foundation. It would have felt weird to have an ex literally laying the foundation for this new chapter in my life.
After the cement dried, a huge pile of wood was delivered in our driveway. Then, our contractors started hammering. The three of us go out there every night, in awe, as we look at the frame of our future home.
And the winner of French Lessons? Congratulations to Cat!
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