This is my house. I call it a lowly bungalow. Sometimes I call it a hovel. But it’s my hovel.

This is my house. I call it a lowly bungalow. Sometimes I call it a hovel. But it’s my hovel.
Their marriage was made neither in heaven nor hell more like in limbo and tumultuous it was and tested by tragedy but it survived all that and thirty years flew by like wildflowers.