I feel a little wistful walking into Big Box Home Improvement now, for the aromatherapy of sawdust, adhesives, and pallets takes my mind back to the early days of this blog, when we'd just bought our "ugly duckling" homestead at Rittenhouse Estates.
I spent many hours at Big Box gathering what I needed (and didnâ€™t need) to transform that 1956 rambler into a home that we and the neighbors could appreciate.
Then one day, we sold the place at a profit, and a year later I woke up in northern Utah, my family broken, and me starting over. Takeaway: When she says, "I'm a psycho," believe her, and protect yourself.
So Iâ€™m at Big Box again today, picking up supplies for another old rambler, one whose basement was poured when Truman was president. Like the other house, this one's been through rehab before. But the owner didn't do it my way, so out come the sledgehammers.
It's a new day. Letâ€™s go from here, shall we? ;-)