Thursday, October 8, 2009

StiLL OcToBeR


Some latent genetic disorder has surfaced in me and unfortunately it looks as if I have been susceptible and indeed caught, my mother's schizophrenic need to restore old victorian houses. I have torn apart my living room and my dear, sweet boy has hunkered down to help me. "HeY BaBy! Travel half way across the country, to a state where you don't know anyone, where neither of us has a job, move into a drafty old victorian house way to big for just the two of us and tear apart the only finished room in the entire house because I simply can't bear the teal leaf wallpaper any longer". "Ok HoNey," he says. I love this man.

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