I did something today I haven't done in just under a year.
I walked out my front door on the way to work.
My very own front door.
It was 51 weeks ago this weekend a hoodlum in a stolen car smashed into my house, destroying the porch attached to my century home.
Yesterday, the contractor put the plywood down on the new roof. By the time the project is finished, it will be fully a year since the crash. I suspect the hoodlum, who pleaded guilty to five charges, has already served his time and is getting ready to do some more.
I don't think it's normal for a project like ours to take a full year. But the crash happened in August, it took until Christmas for the insurance company to figure out what the ancient porch was worth, and a while to get approvals to build. Plus, my sweetie and I changed our minds on a few things.
It's been a tough year, explaining why the front door is inaccessible, giving directions down the driveway, cringing every time someone comes into my home through a laundry room that somehow, is always, always messy.
Really, we weren't hurt and we lost nothing. But my tiny project and small inconvenience has given me more sympathy for our neighbours in Calgary flooded out this year, and in Lac Megantic, victims of criminal negligence where so much has been lost and it's going to take far more than a year for most people to walk out their front doors again.