I love hole in the wall places – the shop where I bought my wedding dress, the little Italian restaurant in a basement that Clay took me on our 2nd anniversary, the local bakery that I love.  It makes me all warm and fuzzy just thinking about them.  But I do not get warm and fuzzy thinking about how our house has become a hole in the wall kind of place…

Curse you, slab leak.  (although I did secretly say one prayer of thanksgiving that I can finally rid the laundry room of that hideous tile circa 1977)