Have I told you that there's a hole in my bathroom floor?

Ok, so it's not the bathroom I live in, but it's the bathroom I hope to be living in.  Someday.  Turns out more plumbing needs to be replaced than we thought.  So Dad has pulled up the floorboards.  The more we work on this bathroom, the more things my dad finds to do with it.  If I didn't know better, I would think he doesn't want us to move out.  (But I do know better.  He does.)  I know what he really wants is for the bathroom to be in good working order for us and to do what is necessary so that we don't have to do MORE work once we've finished.  And I can respect that.  I wish it didn't cause a little groan inside that it means things will get pushed back even further.  Sigh.  Maybe we'll move in October?  But hey, if I've ever learned anything from my dad, it's that work should be done right.  (I wish I was better at that.)

But let me say this while I've got the chance: I couldn't be more grateful to my parents.  They've put in a lot of work on this place, even when Nick and I haven't been able to, me because Eliza get's antsy because she can't play on the floors (too dirty!) and I end up taking her home, and Nick because he's been putting in so many hours at work.  They have been generous to a fault, they have been dedicated, and they are true gems.  If you don't them, you should.  If you know them, but not well, you should get to know them better.  You'll be hard pressed to find better people.  Of course, they're not perfect.  I'm not perfect.  (Who, besides our Lord, is??)  But they're fantastic.  And I find it really hard to just express how deeply grateful I am.  Words rather fail, and so I sometimes can't say more than a weak "Thank you."  So, thank you, Mom and Dad.  You're the best.