My husband and I love this house in our neighborhood. It has a bridge to the front door. It's weird. And wacky. And wonderful. And the old couple who have lived in it since it was built in the 60s are moving out and their son called us and wanted to know if we wanted to buy it. O. My. God.
I don't have a real job. And I impatiently await to see if any of my new book proposals will be loved and purchased. Dreaming of this house got me through the tumor and the hospital stay. Weird that exactly two years later (seriously, like to the day) we get a call about this house. Yep, it's the two year anniversary of my very own heirloom tomato being removed from my heart and lungs. Yipee for me! I'm alive and healthy and well and occasionally wise.