Story has been on my mind a lot these days.

Our lives are these big collections of moments and memories; it’s really wonderful to think about. In fact, it’s empowering. Where would you or I be without the stories and experiences? Where would we even be without the stories of our parents? Or grandparents? Even the bad experiences shape us.

Some of our stories are things we share with others. Some of them are just for us, deep in our hearts. What if we could take those stories and fill pages and pages of books, then wrap them up in a big bow? It could be a gift for tomorrow. It could be a gift for ourselves.

These last few weeks have been monumental in my mind, thinking of how I could craft an agent for helping women embrace their stories and themselves. I think I’ve just barely tapped the surface with my big toe at the journal shop.

Construction always does that to me. I find my mind wandering to places I never stopped to think about, and my life starts to change. Sure there are tasks that require every ounce of your brainpower like measuring or running the chop saw. Those are not the times to wander! The daydreams come with the tasks that become a steady waltz; your feet and heart know just what to do.

It was while doing the repetition of construction in Berlin that made me want to start this blog in 2008. It was the repetition of sanding and varnishing the same cabinets that made me want to take deep studies in the German language. And now? There’s so much hope and possibility.

I’m just trying to have an open heart and celebrate the journey of making this hangar home. Thank you for celebrating this story with ordinary me.

The doodle is something I wrote, hole punched, and tucked in my She 1.1 journal.

Building ceilings inside an existing structure isn’t exactly easy. That’s why we plan on putting them up piece by piece. The first segment is already up in the bedroom. Yahoo!

Just like with the home’s walls, the boys make a wood frame. We’re using 2x6s in the ceiling. Then they install plastic and metal screen for vapor and mouse barriers. Mice on the ceilings? We hope not! But since one whole side of the hangar is a giant door for airplanes to come in and out, we’re not taking any chances of letting mice into our house, too.

“Mouse free is the way to be-e-e-e!”

Oh dear. Someone stop me. I’m starting to sing again. What I’m really trying to get at isn’t a song, just a statement: these ceiling segments are insanely heavy! I’m not nearly strong enough to help with the lifting and installing.

So while the boys are lifting, I’m going to show you something else.

Remember this whole space?

I spent weeks going through everything and decluttering aviation stuff that certainly predated me.

I swear I did manage to get that space empty minus two heavy cabinets. (Again, the I’m-a-weakling thing.) And yet, here’s how it looks now.

It’s a great place for storing doors. Lumber. Scraps. Saw horses. Eco-friendly insulation. And construction stuff.

But one day, that will not be the case. One day, this place will be our construction zone, not construction stuff zone. Then it’ll become my journal shop‘s home!

Wait a second. Do you even remember this space? Just to refresh your memory, here’s an angle of our remodel that you’re coming to know quite well.

Now swing to the left.

There ya go. That’s what I’m talking about.

Last month, Martin and I decided to put that project on hold. Rather than trying to build a 720 square foot home (67 square meters) and a 300 square foot office (28 square meters) all at once, we’re focusing on them one at a time. Due to our dislike of tire house living, it was pretty easy to make our decision: house first!

Only problem? My journal business can’t fit in our hangar loft home when we move in. Neither can Martin’s office work. So what are the options?

The hangar isn’t warm enough for sitting at a desk. It can also smell like airplanes sometimes. If you’re Martin, you LOVE that smell. You LIVE for that smell. But I am not Martin, and I do not have bumper stickers that says, “There’s nothing like the smell of jet fuel in the morning.”

Can you guess what the only solution we’ve come up with is, then?

If you are guessing, ”Does this mean you’re going to be living in the hangar loft and working from the tire house until you’re done building the office?” I’m not going to hear you. I’m too busy singing with my fingers in my ears. “La-la-la-la-la.” Either that or listening to the drum of hammers.

I think the boys are getting another ceiling section up.

Then I think of all the progress and dreaming we’re making with our home in the airplane hangar, and I forget. What neglected business?

Nonetheless, I’m feeling very fortunate to receive some incredible press.

This whole page is from a regional green living magazine.

And this little blip came from The Huffington Post.

And then there’s this photo of one of Gadanke’s travel journals in Norway (by Sonya at Kanelstrand). sigh.

Seriously, what would I do without you guys and your constant support? I’m beyond addicted to celebrating your little stories in these books.

And in case you were wondering, “What was it that Katie started brewing on Monday?” It’s this:

I think they look delicious! (Well then again, I haven’t had breakfast yet.) As soon as we get this ceiling building business under control, I’ll have them up in the shop ready for you.

So you can probably guess. It’s ceiling building at the hangar this Saturday. What are your plans?

It seems almost impossible to Martin and me that this space looked like this six months ago:

Can you just not believe it, too?

I feel our home slowly coming together, and I’m so excited. All the adventures (like learning to fly airplanes) and experiences (like living overseas) have wrapped themselves into my heart, and I see the influences slowly come alive as Martin and I plan how we want our home to look and function.

Starting with the walls. Which, by the way, the last of them is going in!

Wall framing, we are sooo finished with you now!

It’s time for the next steps.

Early in the morning, I’ll type ideas like “kitchen stovetop” into my Pinterest account. Our bed is right next to my computer/office/journal making zone in the tire house. Martin will be asleep in bed and wake to me blurting, “Eww! This is so American” when I click on a picture. ha! I’m sounding like some sort of snob, huh?

I guess that’s what happens when you experience different ways of living. All that inspiration is tucked away in my back pocket, coming out piece by piece as we create our home. Loving some American styles. Not loving others one bit… namely the ones that seem too bulky or inefficient.

I know. Imagine that!

And now here we are. With one last kick,

we’re declaring it done. The walls are framed. It’s time for the ceiling.

There is a burst of energy that hits us every day that quite honestly, we don’t know what to think of. All we know to do is trip over ourselves on our way out the door of the tire house as we get back to work on building our home in the airplane hangar.

We like this kind of work. At the end of the day, you can look around. You can see the changes you are making. You can see everything you’ve accomplished. Piece by piece by piece.

Today it’s the bedroom.

Can you believe it? I’m standing at the other end of the house (in the photo above) where the bathtub will be. One day soon, this view will not be so big. Not with the way these guys work.

At the end of the day, you can feel all of the work you have achieved.

It’s exhausting. It’s awesome.

It kind of makes you wonder. “Is that pound cake done? I could use a breather.”

“Now I have the bravery to do fine things.” – Gabriela Sabatini, former professional tennis player

Where do you need more bravery, more fearlessness?