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The New River.
I blew up the toaster oven making breakfast this weekend. Flames! It was exciting! I stood there and thought, hmmm. Should I call my cousin next door and tell him I am about to burn the farmhouse down? Or wait? I stood there. Waited. (I hated to bother him.) The flames went out. Whew. :mrgreen:
I brought my daughter her breakfast and she said, can I have another piece of toast? I said, um, I don’t think so…..
How was your weekend?
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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