Our house is quirky, in that funky, built in 1940 kind of way. We have original tile in the bathroom and kitchen, doors that aren’t a standard jamb width, hardwood floors, sawdust insulation, original light fixtures, coved ceilings. You get the idea.
At 3am a few weeks ago, I woke up after a fitful bit of sleep. I turned over, readjusted Monkey from being planted on my shins, and tried to go back to sleep. Rob was sleeping peacefully. I was trying to go back to sleep, not succeeding.
And then I heard water. Running water. Inside the house.


Rob’s desk (shown here from last winter) took a beating this summer. His second monitor died and we finally got a proper window covering for the window. (We’d been using a sheet to cover it.. can you say ghetto?) But the space was dwindling for him and we needed more room for everything.





