Frank!

I bought Frank for 1.97 at the Walmart in Moscow, ID in 1994.

I wouldn't say the years have been kind. When my mom is in town, she trims him and tries to make him look a little better. Better is relative. 

Frank has grown substantially in 20 years from the little sprig he started. I think I've gotten my two bucks worth.

When our first house was for sale, Frank had to go into 'foster care' and live with friends as he could have been a distraction to buyers.

Seriously.

The amazing house could have been brought down from the ugly Walmart plant from 1994.

Now, house sold, Frank lives happily on a table in the master bed room. He likes the windows. He's gotten bigger and somehow less attractive. If that is possible.

When I painted the table he sits on, the husband said, "You know, the table is a little too nice now for Frank. I think you should move him."

"Um, I've had Frank longer than I've had you. Why should Frank leave?"

He gave me a look. But, honestly I get it so often I don't even really notice anymore.

But, he does sort of have a point. Frank has seen better days and maybe the master bed room isn't the place for him now. But, it's Frank. I'm sort of attached.

I've been working on the third floor of the house, mostly guest space. Here's the thing, there is a perfect place for Frank. On the third floor. In the perfect light. Displayed 'just so'.

But, in true 'me' style, I don't want the husband thinking this is because of him. I am moving Frank upstairs. Me. Because that place is perfect for him. NOT because HE wanted Frank out of the bedroom. Just because I wanted a perfectly styled third floor landing.

So, I moved Frank. I am now sleeping without Frank. For the first time in years.

We've come a long way, Frank and I.

From that crappy dorm room in The Tower to our own grown up mortgage.

I can't wait to see where we go next.

Frank. On display.