I am a relatively normal, Midwestern-raised gal with a husband, a dog, and a four-year-old son. One day while watching Disney Junior he (the four-year-old) asks me, “Mama, where does Mickey Mouse live?” Suddenly, childhood memories flooded over me.
My grandparents lived in Florida. Venice Beach, to be exact. We went to visit them twice in the 70s. Both times we went to Walt Disney World. Pre-EPCOT, ticket book, you-can-still-sense-the-essence-of-Walt, vintage Walt Disney
Updated 07-10-2013 at 09:34 AM by Attic Haunt (Fact correction)
It might have something to do with my age, but I am beginning to hate my house. There's just way too much work to do around here. My husband is no help. He says he works all day, and he shouldn't have to come home, and do stuff around the house. I count myself lucky when he does anything. Sometimes, he gets out the dusting spray, and dust rag and dusts the living room and dining room. That's about the extent of his participation.
I recently had my tenant's apartment rewired,
My tenant's apartment is about to become a war zone again. The reason being is that her entire apartment needs new electrical wiring. My house is old. I have lived in it since 1986, and I have tried to keep up with the problems, but they keep multipying and multiplying. One small complaint about a ceiling fixture that doesn't work, and sound electrical advice has come to the realization, that the best course of action is to have the apartment rewired.
In the meantime, there is
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