As you know from last week’s blog, I was in Texas helping my friend Sharon unpack hundreds of boxes from a recent move. You might be interested to know (or perhaps not) that I didn’t develop a Texan drawl. That’s because Sharon ensconced me in her home for 6 days so I never got the chance to develop a proper Southern twang.
Floor to ceiling throughout 3400 square feet
Now don’t get me wrong. Sharon didn’t exactly crack the whip. But close.Very, very close. Let’s just say she reminded me of Lady Tremaine (Cinderella’s wicked stepmom) but without poofy hair.
I hate to beat a dead horse. In fact I hate to beat anything, let alone a dead horse. What kind of a saying is that anyway? Now don’t get me wrong. Today I’m not writing about beating horses so you can just forget the opinion you’ve just formed that I’m a dead-animal-beater. I mean really, what’s wrong with you?
No, today’s blog is about how apropos my last blog was. You see, as I write this, I’m on a plane to Texas to meet my friend Sharon and help her unpack hundreds of boxes shipped from her and Jim’s previous home in Perth, Australia, to her current home outside Houston. Being the kind, considerate, thoughtful and giving person I am, I offered to help her unpack. Continue reading →