I Blame Nick

When we moved to Los Angeles, I was in charge of buying a new house since Kelly and Gus had remained in Oakland. With the help of Sabine and Liesel, I hunted for just the right home. After seeing far too many places to count, we ended up buying our realtor Nick's house.

The house was pretty perfect expect that right off of the deck there was a hot tub.  Now that was an amenity wasted on us! Kelly agreed: we were never going to use that blasted spa.

What were we thinking? We lived in the hot tub. It was so good that during a friendly check-in call with Nick a few months later, I told him it had three settings: good, better, and who needs a man.

After our first harsh Utah winter, we were really missing that hot tub. So when we moved from our short term place into a longer-term rental, Kelly made sure it had a spa. The problem was that it was far from the caliber we had come to expect. This one was older, smaller, and broke down...a lot.

When we started looking to buy again, I guess a hot tub wasn't on our list of must haves, because we endured another 4, spa-less winters. But enough was enough for Kelly, and for his birthday he convinced me to let us buy a hot tub. It arrived, Friday.

Unlike with the spa in LA, there is no pretense that we aren't going to use it. I'm averaging 2.5 dips a day.

Personally, I blame Nick.