Part of the beauty of renting a flat for the week is having some place to bum around when you don’t want to walk another step. Some place to read quietly. Some place to goof off with your kids. Some place to cook dinner and share a family dinner. Some place to pretend you’re all sitting around your own living room cracking up over stupid shit.
Some place to call home.
* And I totally didn’t get Dave’s reference in Berlin that we could take the U2 to the zoo station … which is bad when you have insisted on naming your oldest child after Bono’s oldest child.
Jordan, you have my haircut.
I like the way the photos are ziggy zaggy. This all looks great Jill!
Thanks, Joelynne! Some of the old posts I’ve forced into one column, but some I’m leaving the way they came out, like this one. I think it works for posts that have more photos or words . . . who the hell knows, right?