I’m always hearing about the exotic architectural sites my friends see during their travels around the world. Growing up in Surrey, I saw a lot of architectural sites too. They’re called crack houses. I actually grew up in one, it was not a pretty sight seeing my dad bend over every time he fixed something.

My family’s great. They try and help out when they can. Like my dad called me recently to give me all his old underwear. Just hope my mom doesn’t do the same. I hate that under wire crap she uses.