Cellared
When the man who has become by best husband so far and I went on our second date, he drove me by what he described as “my idea of a great house.” It had grand lines, a great view and a distinct sag eastward, and it was painted a horrible pinky-beige. I remarked that it would be quite the project and forgot about it, because it was not for sale and ... read more
This essay first appeared in Pacific Northwest Magazine in November, 2007.
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