A surprise for me!
I was out of town this weekend--at the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, TN (worthy of an entire blog, all by itself). When I called Chris Sunday to tell him when I'd be home, he said he had a surprise, but wouldn't tell me what it was. All I had to do was pull in the driveway to know what he'd done, the angel. Even in the dark, I could see the garage door was open--the garage sits behind the house, in a very dark part of a dark yard--and there was room for me to park inside! I haven't parked my car--an eleven-year-old Mustang convertible that I dearly love--in the garage since God's dog was a pup. It's one of the drawbacks to being married to a packrat remodeling contractor with no basement to call his own. Cleaning out the garage is the first step in the remodeling of the entire garage/chicken room building. (Chris calls it the "carriage house," but I figure until all remnants of chickens and their droppings are gone from the building,