Entertaining (about 3) readers since 1998…
My pharmacist is named Steven. He and his wife Tiffany run their own little community pharmacy.
Steven and Tiffany know my name, too. And over the years they have helped me in so many ways — with potential (and realized) allergic reactions, addressing my concerns about my medications and with my smoking cessation efforts —just to name a few. They make me feel like a person — not a number.
They care and so do I.
I pass by this house on my walk to and from work. There have been workmen inside for weeks and the junk just keeps coming out. At least 2 dumpsters have come and gone.
I sometimes sneak a peek inside and the house still looks very much like a work in progress. But you can tell things are getting done.
However, the only change evident on the outside is new windows.
Otherwise the house looks like a hillbilly shack.
The thing is coated in peeling purple paint and there’s an addition that looks like it was built by a team of blind elves.
I can’t possibly describe the rest. It must been seen to be believed.
I am dying to know if the owners will actually do something about the outside of this house.
I have a feeling the plan was only for an interior renovation — much to, I imagine, the chagrin of the neighbours. I’ll keep you posted.
Maybe I take a picture, too.