This is the 100th post on Anne Noir...so to celebrate I am dedicating this post to my dear old Dad. That's him in his highchair planning his next business move. My Dad was in his element buying and selling. There was nothing in his realm that was not for sale for a price. I used to joke that if selling kids wasn't against the law I would have been long gone. I lived under my Father's roof for 20 years...actually it was 16 different roofs as he indulged his passion for real estate. The man could sell ice to an Eskimo. He always seemed to be in the right place at the right time...as his Uncle Bud used to say "That @#$% kid could fall down the privy in an out house and come out smelling like a rose." Dad also knew how to manage the money he made...I spent half my life calling him Scrooge...but when you really needed help...he was always there.
