It’s not often I like to admit when I am wrong, but I suppose, who does? Tonight I am pleased to not only admit it, but to publicly declare it. Craig, I was wrong.
There is a stone house at the end of our driveway. It is immaculate in every way. The grass is perfect, green, mowed. The trees are aligned. The gates are beautiful and detailed. The windows reveal fine glass and china and ornate picture frames. I haven’t been inside although I imagine it to be perfectly spotless and a perfect combination of neat and homely.