Peter and I are in the preliminary phase of the design of our home and it is crazy awful! During a recent "discussion" following revisions to the plans, I informed Peter that I am so sick of him. He of course did not hesitate in returning some equally awful statement of eternal love and marital bliss. Now that we have pinned down the footprint we think we can tolerate each other for another few years.
We stayed with Vickie and Len, conveniently located halfway from First Edition to our property on the way to meet with Bill Prillaman, our architect. (The Tillmans' solution for the stress of building a new home is alcoholic consumption, so they seem to be doing fine. With my latest blood work in, I am off alcohol until my liver rebounds from the ravishes of methotrexate. My girlfriend has decided to go dry in solidarity. I don't recommend this, even if you count me as a close friend. (As a side note, Vickie sponsored me years ago on Smoke Out day, sending encouragement and floral arrangements while I sneaked Newports behind everybody's back. No worries. I am smoke free now.)