Welcome To the Sippican Cottage Space Age Bachelor Pad

Well, my sons are bachelors, anyway.

Never mind. I’m gonna pretend I’m a bachelor too. It will increase the enjoyment of chasing my wife around the wreckage of the Christmas tree later tonight. You know, after the kids are snug in their beds, exhausted from a day of unwrapping gifts, and full of roast beast. The best part is their beds are in different towns than ours.  They have driver’s licenses and opinions and everything now. We’ve loosed them on the world. Good luck.

And as Esquivel said it best: You look ravishing!