Saturday, October 18, 2008

Woman Admits to Tears

The house where my husband and I had our first Christmas.

Where we first brought our twins home to and then proceeded to take a year's worth of pictures in various shades of cheap paneling brown .

The house that I helped with its addiction to the 70s. I once imagined myself as a curator of a museum. A museum that was my house. I shall call it "The Museum of the 70s."

Well, my curator dreams have been destroyed and the orange carpet is no longer a part of my life. This old house left our lives today on a mission to provide other families with absolutely no desirable photography opportunity for their young families whatsoever.

The Danish Cowboy -- he didn't even shed a tear when it left. Unbelievable.

I bid you farewell, old house. Good luck in your new life. May the world be kind to you.

And sorry about that purple porch that seems to have left a scar on your side.
Happy trails, old friend.

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