They had the home inspected, as one does before one purchases a home, and everything passed. After they'd moved in, they decided to have it inspected again (this is how I remember it; though, I'm not sure if I'm right). Anyway, I recall that there was a second inspection after they'd closed on the house and had moved in. The results were shocking!
In one of the main walls of the great room, there was dry rot in a number of the logs. The deal was done, the house was theirs. Although there was a court case, they lost, and the repairs were theirs to make.
Our friends hired a man to come up to the hill that December. He agreed to brace the remaining, non-rotted walls so that they would stand while the rotting walls could be removed and replaced. He would get just the perfect logs and hand chink them so that they'd fit into the empty space.
This process took weeks, and again, just in case you missed it, it was the dead of winter up on top of a mountain. This could not be avoided, though it was an enormous inconvenience.
As we start a friendship, we build a foundation. As time goes on, it's that foundation that we continue to build on.
From the other side of the wall, are we willing to brace ourselves and remove our own rot, so we don't have to hide our sand blasting, hoping that others won't find what we're hiding and that we tried to hide it in the first place?
As I pondered on this, I realized that there isn't one of us who is without dry rot, and there isn't one of us who doesn't, from time to time, try to sandblast and cover up our imperfections and mistakes. That being the case, how much dry rot are you willing to endure in others and in yourself? How much are you willing to stand in the cold, while things are braced, and allow the new logs to be chinked and put in place?