Ever since I was a little boy I wanted to build my own home.
I wanted custom ceiling fans and toilet parts and double-sized closets.
I had images of Abe Lincoln being born in a log cabin that his parents had built just weeks before the coming winter.
I wanted to be that rugged, to make a claim on land that had never been built on before.
That was a very idealistic notion.
By the time I had the cash and some of the know-how to buy a plot of land and begin building, my wife and I had just had our baby, so unfortunately we couldn't birth him in the cabin the way the parents of our greatest president had.
Like Thomas Lincoln, I was a carpenter secondarily.
I knew how to use builders hardware and other housewares, door accessories and paint supplies, but my knowledge was limited when it came to plumbing fittings and electric accessories.
When I ran into something I wasn't sure about, I called my uncle, who is an electrician and who knows the ins and outs of installation.
There was something fine about using hand tools to cut the beams that would one day support my roof.
Of course, I needed help and employed my best friend and my brother, luring them with promises of how they would be able to stay here in the woods whenever they wanted.
They believed me and within nine months, we had most of the home complete.
My wife had become pregnant again and with most of the hand tools moving back into toolboxes, we only had a few more details to finish, such as the granite for the kitchen countertop and the carpeting in the hallways.
We would be ready to move within a matter of weeks.
We left our apartment in the city and drove along the river and into the wooded hills.
I did most of the unpacking since MaryLou was getting big already at four months.
By the end of summer she was the same size as the house.
But when her water broke, she insisted on going to the local hospital.
It was then I realized I didn't know how to deliver a baby, and that our child wouldn't be born in our new home.
Perhaps it was just as well.
When he arrived home swaddled, I could tell that one day he would be a great man.
I wanted custom ceiling fans and toilet parts and double-sized closets.
I had images of Abe Lincoln being born in a log cabin that his parents had built just weeks before the coming winter.
I wanted to be that rugged, to make a claim on land that had never been built on before.
That was a very idealistic notion.
By the time I had the cash and some of the know-how to buy a plot of land and begin building, my wife and I had just had our baby, so unfortunately we couldn't birth him in the cabin the way the parents of our greatest president had.
Like Thomas Lincoln, I was a carpenter secondarily.
I knew how to use builders hardware and other housewares, door accessories and paint supplies, but my knowledge was limited when it came to plumbing fittings and electric accessories.
When I ran into something I wasn't sure about, I called my uncle, who is an electrician and who knows the ins and outs of installation.
There was something fine about using hand tools to cut the beams that would one day support my roof.
Of course, I needed help and employed my best friend and my brother, luring them with promises of how they would be able to stay here in the woods whenever they wanted.
They believed me and within nine months, we had most of the home complete.
My wife had become pregnant again and with most of the hand tools moving back into toolboxes, we only had a few more details to finish, such as the granite for the kitchen countertop and the carpeting in the hallways.
We would be ready to move within a matter of weeks.
We left our apartment in the city and drove along the river and into the wooded hills.
I did most of the unpacking since MaryLou was getting big already at four months.
By the end of summer she was the same size as the house.
But when her water broke, she insisted on going to the local hospital.
It was then I realized I didn't know how to deliver a baby, and that our child wouldn't be born in our new home.
Perhaps it was just as well.
When he arrived home swaddled, I could tell that one day he would be a great man.
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