Dani and I are in our mid-foties.

We live in a small Midwestern town, on a tree-shaded corner lot, in a two-story house that just today I had visions of crumbling over in a puff of dry dust. It needs some repairs.

We both work, have two cars with well over 100,000 miles on them each, leaking oil and who knows what. We share a sagging, postage stamp-size bed with a wolf-dog named Blackie at our feet (he's a German Shepherd-Heeler mutt from the shelter, actually), and half the time with a small child or another. Which is probably the real reason I haven't been getting much sleep lately.