This was a raccoon that attacked a dog at night, ... The raccoon was killed by the home owner.

This porch is the first place we hit when we come home at night. And where we like to stay all weekend. Sometimes, we never want to leave. And we don't plan to. The mortgage is almost paid off and this house is just perfect for us. We don't need anything bigger and the porch is nicer than anything we've seen on a new house.

He knows where his home is, we just accepted that. We're just sojourners, this is not our home.

I used to work in home health, and (patients) usually wait until the family is gone, and then they go. I don't know what it is, I guess people don't want their loved ones there. Strange thing.

My parents have long been gone, but it brings back very fond memories of coming home after school, and eating meatloaf, mashed potatoes and creamed corn.

I feel like I'm drowning. Every night, I'm carrying home loads of things to read but I'm too exhausted. I keep clipping things and Xeroxing them and planning to read them eventually, but I just end up throwing it all away and feeling guilty.