This passes for major excitement in my world

We put in an offer. It's cash, but fairly low. We'll see. I think we're going to get this place.

Let me add some things: it's got huge windows, all new and well installed (lots of old houses with unusual window dimensions get absolutely ruined by cheap new windows, but not this one). It's pained pink. It has a clawfoot tub.

Oh, and did I mention? There's a ginormous mural of Athena and Zeus and company cavorting around the Parthenon or something. Done in bright, bold, gloppy acrylic paint.

Anyone recommend a very good primer?

We're supposed to find out any day now what the bank's counter is. Fingers crossed.

The Ultimate Distraction

So, my man and I are trying to buy a house. Yes, Misfit, I'm looking at you with that meaningful glance.

It's a Carpenter Gothic house from the 1890s. It was rehabbed a some point, very well with good solid basics, but has fallen on hard times. It's cheap, but will be an insane amount of work. On two acres, not far from our current home, with a lovely view. Bank owned, so it has no kitchen or HVAC systems (but duct work). There's a huge hole in the ceiling from a plumbing problem in the terrifying powder room that looks like a gimp room upstairs. It has a barn. And a garage. And a summer kitchen. Two porches... it's amazing, in short. And terrifying.

Miscarriage? What miscarriage?

Well, that's over

I'd never recommend a natural miscarriage to someone still in the throes of IF hell. It's grisly business.

But as things go, it wasn't as bad as I expected. Though it exhausted me, I almost instantly felt better, thanks to tanking preggo hormones. It came in the middle of Monday night, when all were fast asleep, and only really sucked for about two hours and ibuprofen took enough of the edge off that I could deal.

Now, I'm chilling on the farm, where my biggest problem is how to keep from downing too many reaaaaly strong g&ts and eating too many peanut butter cups.

Ah, the irony!

I've never been so happy to see spotting in my life. Looks like things are getting started, which is good. I was dreading waiting weeks (or, as my nurse-midwife warned me, possibly months) for this thing to resolve. Now it's happening, slowly but surely.

I'm going to visit my folks for a week with my little guy. It was my man's brilliant idea: they live on a farm in a beautiful place, have a swimming pool, and like to cook and serve sad daughters gin and wine. Not together, of course. So it's going to be a vacation for both of us, and allow me to have some constant company and support.

In general, I'm feeling much better. Thanks for all your kind sympathy. The good news seems to be that we may one day be able to cook up another kid. Likely, just like a natural m/c, that will happen at the most inconvenient time. Though, hopefully, not mid-dive from the high dive. (thanks, Baby Smiling for the belly laugh!)

Nope

Still an empty sac on the u/s. So now I get to wait around until the sucker decides to pass. Which will most likely happen at the most inconvenient possible time--humorous speculations welcome. I can't manage a D&C, as my man has no time off left, his boss is an ass, and my usually extremely helpful and responsive MIL is on a three-week vacation abroad.

At least I can have some beer.