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