RS: things are getting weird.

Well, things are starting to get weird around here.

Last night I dreamed that my husband killed someone . . . for their Lowe’s gift card.

If there are stages of DIY lunacy, this is definitely one of them.

Specifically, in my DIY-overdose-induced nightmare, my almost pacifist (in real life) husband plotted an elaborate assault on a man he didn’t know because he had won a Lowe’s gift card drawing instead of him, and he couldn’t bear losing the dream of all those tens of thousands of free two-by-fours.

And Lowe’s bore a striking resemblance to my grandparents’ old strawberry farm.

Are we worried?

I’m blaming Fun with Dick and Jane, all the Shakespeare that I was forced to read for my major, and that ice cream cone I had right before bed. And watching the news.

In other news . . . it’s been a year! A year since we first surveyed our broken house full of junk and poo and said we’d take it.

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Here’s hoping we’re closing in on the final stretch. And here’s to happier house dreams.

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