When a scholar and a painter work at home together deep in thought, blog names are born.
Routinely, our brother-in-law manages to frighten my sister by existing.
He’ll walk through a room in a house that he owns, in which a pensive woman he’s been married to for twenty-two years is deep in thought, and he’ll mysteriously manage to frighten her.
“It’s just me, the little man who lives in your house,” he’ll say, and they’ll both crack up. Joke never gets old.
This weekend we go to Minneapolis to visit MrsMiddleGuySis and The Little Man Who Lives In Her House.