But crawling through the tunnel at "The Little House" was nothing to be alarmed about. It was such an extremely short, easy distance. And I had no choice: The front door to the house does not open so I had to be okay with being a little uncomfortable. It was perfectly unconventional. Somehow it all made sense.
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Recently, I spent a marvelous week on vacation with my family (our eldest son was working out of the country, but the younger two, 25, and 22, were able to join my husband and me). The scene was an idyllic cabin beside a lake filled with bass, osprey soaring the skies, and golden sunsets. It would have been perfect, except for one thing: Worry. Somehow, it stalks me wherever I go.