While we were in Deary my husband had the chance to help my brother Reuben work on his tiny house. I only feel obliged to mention this because I think it makes him more eligible. “Have house, need wife.” Ladies just think, it could all be yours. All 200 square feet. There are French doors in the middle flanked by a kitchen on one side and a living room/bathroom on the other with a wrap around porch. The two dormers are loft bedrooms. One for the happy couple and the other for their four children. Reuben has already finished the complementary shop and tea house and it’s all designed to travel.
I think the most frequently asked question at my parents house that weekend was, “What is the van doing up there?” The not so obvious answer was, “Oh, dad’s turning it into a stagecoach and needs to attach drive lines to the steering column.”
Of course. In any case, it adds a great aesthetic.
Rahab spent the whole weekend packing around her two favorite white trash Barbie dolls. The perks of being at Grandma’s house.
A picture of my ruggedly handsome husband.
He’s the reason why all my children are so striking. Although Marc did come up to me the other day, after attempting to teach the boys math, and actually implied that I had sullied his gene pool. “You used to be able to see the bottom,” he insisted as he eyed me with suspicion.
Whatever, it should be obvious to anyone that I come with excellent breeding. That’s right.
And if you play your cards right, we could even become related.