It's hard and sometimes it's scary. It still amazes my mother. I went home for Christmas one year and there were fans all over the front lawn, hoping to see me.

Our goal this year is to have nine families move into a home by Christmas.

This means everything; we've come home. My house is gone, but I'm still home for Christmas.

That was getting close to happening when Julie Harris had a stroke, and then my mother got ill and eventually died of lung cancer.

I've had tons of odd jobs, but I think that I would probably be a fireman because you get to see the results of your job. You get there and there is a house on fire. You leave and there's not a fire anymore.

There's a big difference between me and a real, legitimate working hand, or a world-champion rodeo cowboy. I play 'em, and I aspire to be like that, but those guys are tough.