I grew up a log loader operator’s daughter. He grew up a builder’s son. I grew up reading Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel at my grandma’s. He grew up reading The Little House: Her Story every time he visited his next-door neighbors. When we were book shopping as newlyweds, he spotted The Little House. …
Susette Kelo and I have two things in common: red hair and little pink houses. “Doesn’t the house look great?” Susette asked. The seller looked disgusted. “Pink?” she asked, then insisted it was not right for the period of the house. “That’s not true,” Susette said. “I got the color right off the historic paint…
When I was a little girl, our dear old house was peeling so many colors of paint, you could chip away at it and find a bright rainbow of colors. Then I discovered that pink was one of the colors it had been painted many moons ago, and pleaded with my daddy to once again…
The End.
The End.
