I should be drinking Skinnygirl margaritas on the beach at Longboat Key…and yet I find myself buying bricks at Home Depot in a sweater and jacket.
Not my ideal vacation, but nobody likes a complainer and so I’m just gonna shut up about it.
When Mark tore out the back bedroom window frame, several of the bricks and mortar crumbled with it.
Just part of living in an old house.
Mark had to rebuild that part of the wall. First, we figured out what kind of mortar we needed and then he went to town.
My husband, The Perfectionist, had those new bricks perfectly placed and lined up like they were part of a military exercise.
If I could only get him to put away his clothes with that kind of precision.
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