"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....
Mike Furir 753 says:
Mike Furir Mike 558
On April 8, 2006 at 1:12 pm
Mike Furir 160 says:
Mike Furir Mike 225
On April 8, 2006 at 1:12 pm