March Inn

Why"March Inn?" March Inn was the name of that magic place where I spent my summers growing up. I have alluded to this place before, and I probably will again. March Inn is no longer standing. The waters of Katrina rendered it unlivable so my children will never know that "March Inn." That makes me sad. In fact it brings me to tears whenever I think about it. I want my children to have their own "March Inn," and I want to capture our lives as they are growing and changing. I invite you to "march inn" to our lives. My hope is that you will catch glimpses of the real world. You will see our creations. You will see our chaos. You will see our affection. You will also see our frustrations, fears, and disappointments. Enjoy your march!

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Our Dirty Joke

Mary Frances was about two when my dad taught her a "dirty joke". She went around telling everyone she knew a dirty joke. When asked what it was, she replied, "A white horse fell in a mud puddle." Well Stephen's dirty joke of the day is, "I fell in the mud puddle," and he really did. Sadly, he didn't think it was too funny when it happened.

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