Beautiful sky, though. Take a look at that.
This house search has stretched the very limits of our marriage and I can't say with complete confidence that we will make it to our anniversary this weekend.
The realtor was so not joking about how quickly the housing market moves around here. Every time we manage to find something we like, it goes under contract or a bidding war begins. We have a new list of houses to look at on Sunday and my new mantra is, repeated continually and forcefully, I will not get emotional about this. Then I get emotional about this. Then I repeat the mantra and go to Sonic to self-soothe.
The downside, of course, being that when we do find a house, I won't be able to fit through the front door.
We are also taking a look at local shelters for other bun buns that need to be rescued. Preferably one under a hundred years old this time. Time will tell, and time will heal. I once heard Beth Moore say that time doesn't heal, God does. He just uses time to do it.
Rapper L sent me homemade cinnamon discs. This made my week and I ate about 17 after the aforementioned Sonic run.
G has mastered all technological resources during this house hunt. I stare at him in amazement and am no help using the navigational function on either the iPhone or the iPad.
So this weekend, it's back to the stampede - we will join the other million and a half people looking for homes in the Denver area. Again, donations accepted.
And, because it bears mentioning, T-G-I-frakkin'-F.
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