My husband is a fixer. No, not the mafia kind. He’s the wrench-wielding, screwdriver-toting kind who intuitively knows how to fix things. He’s been on a roll in the waterworks department this week, ...
In the past week, Don asked me for advice. He lives in the northeast corner of North Carolina just 15 miles from the Atlantic Ocean. His front porch stoop is in very bad shape. Back in 1949, when the ...
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