Mr. Wentworth is rolling his eyes, taking deep inhalations of breath and looks like he may say "Yes, dear" at any moment. He has embraced the phrase "Yes dear" but delivers it in a long-suffering tone tinged with sarcasm... at which point I have to growl at him ... and then he does this innocent "What? Who me?" thing and looks like a lost puppy... makes me insane. Anywho...
Our dream house must have a designated space for me to create. Ideally, this would be a cottage by the sea where I could write, craft and spraypaint old furniture to my heart's content. However, unless we win the lotto, which is obviously totally possible, it will most likely be a room in our house where I can write, craft and spraypaint old furniture to my heart's content.
Which is why I almost had to excuse myself to have a private moment (*ehem*), over Ms. Martha Stewart's crafts room.

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