Habitat for Humanity International
high on the short-grass prairies of western Nebraska, that huge inland sea of grass where the only constant is the wind whistling across the snow-covered, sagebrush hills. Aged, warped, unpainted clapboard siding hardly slowed the wind and cold. It was an uninsulated farmhouse with no central heating, no electricity, no indoor plumbing, and windows that let in more wind than light. Just 3 ft. from the iron stove in the kitchen, it was Iree/ing. In our bedrooms, even when Mother warmed the sheets with her flat iron, the temperature never got much above what it was outside. Wallpaper, as the saying goes, was used not for decoration, but for insulation.
After high school, I headed south. The first framing job I worked on was in Los Angeles in 1950...
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