This house is two homes. From the front door, you can immediately walk down a staircase that leads to a small parlor area. Downstairs you will find a living room complete with fireplace, two bedrooms, and a full bathroom. There is also a decent sized workroom, which we'll be using tomorrow to finish putting the flowergirl baskets together.

If you were not to go downstairs, you'd find another much larger living room, formal dining room, kitchen, study, bathroom, and master bedroom. From the living room, dining room, and bedroom you can access a wide balcony/porch area. My children find great joy in running out the living room doors and back in the bedroom doors. The grandparents do not find much amusement in this. One can only wonder why.

Back downstairs, you can leave the house from a door in the living room. I sit outside there, on the porch beneath the balcony, hoping the smoke from my cigarette isn't rising up into the open windows above, but knowing it probably is. About 30 feet in front of me is the golf course, where men that look barely young enough to be driving cars move past us in their golf carts, dressed in brightly coloured polo shirts and black slacks. I pondered to Shannon earlier, wondering how anyone is ever able to hit the golf ball, let alone know where the thing goes upon taking flight.

Last night, Daegan ran out and peed on a tree on the golf course. I suppose that sums up my feelings on golf, and any thoughts over whether or not my son would enjoy playing.

Today Shannon and I sat in the twin beds in the downstairs room that have become my makeshift home for another week or so. We watched TLC all day, which made Shannon very happy. We watched A Baby Story, A Wedding Story, A Personal Story, and many other (S)tories that drove me completely insane. Thankfully at some point the grandparents decided to exit the home for the evening. At this point I merrily suggested we order Chinese food, which we did. Note to anyone coming to Lake George in the near future: Do not order Chinese food from a place called Chopsticks.

We then walked in the woods a bit, took a few pictures, and made a few phone calls. Now I'm sneakily posting this before the grandparents arrive home again and I'll quickly steal peanut butter cookies from the cookie jar and run back downstairs.

I'm like Flowers in the Attic, except, I'm in the basement type area. And I'm not commiting incest. Uh, right. I'll be going now.

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