For thirty years (WAY before I was born, for all you mathematicians) I have wished to own a home. I would tell my Dad about my dreams and wishes and curiously he would ask me, (and I think he made this up), 'wish in one hand and shit in the other -- which one fills up first?" My father died a few years back and I was never able to give him the answer.
Well, after all this time I finally can answer that question -- Father, the shit filled-up faster.
Although embarrassing and quite messy, I think I learned something. Sometimes life gives you shit. Lots of worthless shit. And wishing for something else doesn't work. So although I have had my share of shit, if I wanted a house; I need to go get a house.
So that's what I did.
Here it is: