Warning: Mama Needs to Vent!

"Bankrupt? Whaddya mean?" (is what I said)

If the sellers of the house my friends are buying are filing for bankruptcy and it affects that sale and then the sale of their house to other buyers falls through I QUIT!
(is what I thought)

A different house I have listed with Katie went under contract when we were in Panama, and after six weeks of helping him redesign the house and researching septic laws and water permits and all kinds of other crap that naturally led us to believe he was about to buy the house, he walked away.

Another friend had been under contract to buy a place downtown for months when we ran out of loan options. He makes more money than any of us, but a tiny credit snag made all the lenders say no - and a new law trying to help the mortgage situation made it so the private lenders I'd found to give him a loan, weren't allowed to.

I found a house that fit these other clients perfectly. It was exactly what they wanted for $300,000 less than they were prepared to pay. Score! We were under contract the same day, knowing there were numerous other people ready to buy it too. My clients started calling all the contractors who worked on the house to get the scoop, and it turns out the owner is a huge pain to deal with. They told my people all kinds of stories of what a jerk he is. They walked away.

Huh? Wouldn't you want to buy a house built by a hard-to-please perfectionist?

We still haven't found them another house, and that perfect one is sold.

Then, after months of communicating with some new clients and finding them houses and going out to take videos and photos of specific angles, I drove them around for six hours. That's normal. But it turns out they were looking all over Colorado and had appointments with Realtors everywhere. That's not normal.

So frustrating!

So I'd already decided that if the final two of the five contracts I had going fell apart too (they were dependent on each other), I was done. What's so crazy though, is that when you do finally get paid, it makes up for the lean times. Gotta remember that. Gotta remember that.

We sorted things out and the two houses are supposed to close this Friday (29th). Keep your fingers crossed.


In the meantime, somehow I ended up with this:

Ha! So maybe there's hope.

   

Masses of snow in Snowmass

What I love about my husband is his spontaneity and ability to come up with fabulous things to do at the drop of a hat. What I don't love about my husband is his complete inability to plan more than ten minutes in advance. (My apologies to the three branches of the family trying to get summer plans out of us at the moment...)

But back to the lovable part. Last weekend Nick said, "Let's go to Snowmass," and we did. After playing hockey in a tournament on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights, I joined my family skiing all day Saturday and Sunday. My legs were done by Monday.

So much fun though!!

Don't slide! Driving between Silverton and Ouray on slick roads is not for the faint of heart.

These are the blue runs; on Saturday we had to head to blacks for powder... 

But it snowed all night and by Sunday there was deep stuff everywhere. Woohoo!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh........................................

   

Playing the Hand You're Dealt

Nick found this on the BBC the other day. His reaction was, "If she can do this, you should have no worries about me being a dentist with one eye."

Click here to meet someone awesome:

< http://www.bbc.co.uk/go/em/fr/-/news/magazine-21377627 >


 

It's February 14th Again.

Two years ago today I nearly lost the love of my life.

SO happy he's still by my side.

♥♥ sigh ♥♥

   

Something Fishy Here

"So are you two being allergic to anything?" Vincent the Belgian Chef asked in his thick French accent. We told him no.

"Good. Good. Anything you don't like?"

Knowing Nick would be reluctant to say anything, I helped out by mentioning he doesn't eat seafood.

"No seafood?! Hmm. Ok ok. No problem. I want you to be happy. No seafood. But you eat fish, of course?"

Bah!

"Uh, yes. Fish is fine." Que? My husband feeling okay?

Vincent left our bungalow and we busted up laughing.

"You're so going to be eating fish tonight. Ha!"

The 4ft long barracuda was still swimming not far from our bungalow at this point...

Looking out from the bed. The front half of the bungalow was open and all we heard at night was the rhythm of the waves.

Loved the bar area. We had lunch with Vincent, two more Belgians and a Dutch couple. The conversation flowed between French, Dutch and English - and no one missed a beat. Really made me miss travelling.

Super fun evening with the Dutch couple, feeding bananas to the night monkeys who came to visit, laughing, and enjoying an amazing meal of superbly prepared,
very fresh, barracuda.
We even shut down the bar, which meant blowing out the candles before we headed to sleep.

Someone had beat us to the bed though.

  

Don't Stand Still in the Jungle

"Aaaiiiii!"

Fire ants. The bite that keeps on biting.

With snakes, small crocs (caimans) and other creepy crawlies reportedly residing in the lush forest by our bungalow, I was watching my step very carefully... so when I wanted to scout the trees above for sloths or something equally cool, I stopped walking to look up. It took about four seconds for the fire ants to pounce on the fresh meat.

The trail was beautiful and felt extra jungle-y because of the stone statues--made of genuine Styrofoam--left over from Survivor (which has been filmed in Panama numerous times), so we didn't really mind that the red frogs and caimans seemed to have been voted off the island.

We emerged from the thicket and headed toward the pier that led to our bungalow when I froze--my voice mid-sentence and my leg mid-air--as I nearly tripped over a three-toed sloth. It's the coolest thing I've ever almost stepped on.

And quite possibly the cutest.

He came to a complete stop--which was not much slower than his full speed--to pose for a photo.

How awesome.

The bungalow didn't suck too much either.

 

Panama

So we ecaped Panama City without getting run over, but not without sunburns. Wanted to make sure we looked like tourists. The Canal sucked us into its web of brilliance, engineering and world-changing history. It´s truly amazing what humans can accomplish when the potential for money is involved.

Making our way west, we found ourselves in a lush, relaxing B&B - the owner pointing out our hammocks in the garden before delivering mango daiquiris. As we strolled the long stretch of beach, we cut through the all-inclusive resort to get to the local shop on the dusty road - seasoned travellers that we are and all - to get sunblock there instead of at the boutique gouging the north Americans currently in a dance line, learning the Macarena by the pool. 

"19 bucks for sunblock? Sorry, that´s too high."

"Espera," as he pulls out his calculator. "17 dollares, preco final."

We explained it was still too pricey and made to leave, and he says in Spanish, "But wait! We have Abuelo rum. Only $7.10 a bottle. How about that instead?"

ha! Que?

Ended up in the boutique. Paid 17 bucks for sunblock that didn´t work and got the rest of us burned.

So much to learn...