Breaking Ground

We broke ground on the new house over a week ago. Actually, last Friday the slab was poured. I was expecting a cement truck to pull up and dump a load and guys to spread it around. NO, there were 20 cement trucks and a huge pumper truck that a guy operated by remote control. I am not a Tonka type of person but even I thought it was pretty cool. My hubby, the engineer, was in heaven.

Being the engineer that he is, he wants to pour over the plans 24-7, discuss ceiling treatments and of course, document photographically every last detail. When the guys were preparing the forms and laying the rebar and stuff in for the foundation hubby calls home and says, "Hey, can you run over and take a picture?" You know I am all about obeying the husband and stuff so of course answer back, "What? Why? Who wants to see something stupid like that?"

Picture this: my husband would have been the guy who would invite people over and then proceed to show them his 2,345 slides from the recent trip to North Dakota.

I felt bad after I said it cuz I ain't one to rain on his little parade. Okay, I'll go and do it.

I went over (our new lot is about 1/4 of a mile from where I live now!). Here are all these Mexican, oops, I mean immigrant, I mean soon to be striking, workers. Several had their shirts off and here is some gringo lady taking their picture.
This guy even started posing for me. Lucky me. They all started chattering in Spanish and I'm sure I heard this "Senora muy loco!"