Three Things I Love About My House.

You know how it feels when you’re falling in love?  At first, it’s all hot and heavy and you can hardly think of anything but being with the other person.  You live them, breathe them, you almost want to EAT them!  But things eventually steady.  The boil, though still burning, simmers down and you start to see stuff you hadn’t seen before.  And often it’s these subtleties that’ll either END IT or enchant you all the more.

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All booked!

Dear Diary,

In the weeks since my last post, I’ve fleshed out the entirety of my upcoming road trip: attractions, hotels, restaurants, even a few thrift shops I want to hit. I found an old journal in a drawer upstairs and knowing no one would miss it, ripped out the first few used pages and made it mine.

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I hate yew.

Ever feel like a hamster on a wheel?  Me too.  Especially this past weekend.  My husband and I have a real knack for making more work for ourselves when there’s already plenty to be had.  We spent Saturday out working in the yard.  We planted, and laid drip hoses.  We put down sod.  Round about knocking off time (for normal people) we decided IT WAS TIME.  We got out the sawzall and put on some gloves, we gathered our daughters and then, one by one, we took out four bushes.  WHY?  Because I hate yew.  My husband hates yew.  And truth be told, our daughters hate yew too.

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