When it comes to digging into my 'hoardings' I am so dexterous. I am so meticulous, I do not miss anything. On one of such excursions, I found what I was looking for, which of course, was bound to happen as I am, as I said above, is so good at it.
The best thing about building this house was, it was built by my family and the neighbors alone. We did not hire any architect....architect in the true sense of the word. The village bricklayers were the architect and we were labors. We carried bricks in 'dokos', knead our own mud, cut our own timbers, we did everything by ourselves to build this house:) I remember bringing the slate tiles for the roof from Gajuri (Dhading district) in a truck. But it took the laborers I hired more than a week to carry them on their back using 'doko' and 'namlo' uphill to the construction site, which was about three or four miles on foot from where the tiles were unloaded. And the roof of the adjacent house, in which my sister lives now, was brought from Kathmandu. The tiles were from a Rana's house and very different from those regular tiles that were in use then.
I remember the daily lunch preparation for the workers. Oh, they used be like fiesta. My mother along with the help from female members of the neighborhood used to prepare it.