Well, we didn't get the place. We kept our hopes low on this one, but it was a real peach and it's tough to see it go--especially after we bid every penny that we could afford for it. Mrs. WTJ observes that we're trying to keep our monthly payments low by front-loading on the down payment and keeping the mortgage small. Other buyers might not care about a high monthly payment (e.g., if both spouses are working full-time) and so they can borrow up the yaz. At any rate, the search goes on.
I will console myself with a scoop. I would expect the diligent folks at
Outside the Dome to make with an early review of the new
Go-Betweens record, but it looks like they're sleeping on the job, or too busy writing wack rhymes, something like that. So here's my two cents, based on one listen: It's a fine piece of work, punkier than the last couple, and very Forster-heavy. Lots of fun turns of phrase and low-key acid. Very Aussie. Tasmania gets a shout-out.
Life goes on otherwise. A compelling
Nanny 911 the other night shamed us into trying new approaches to Wrong Turn Jr.'s bedtime. He needs Mommy like mad to make the transition; Daddy can only get him through the gates with a half-hour's bouncing on an exercise ball. (If you haven't been to the Secret Volcano Base, it's quite a sight to see.) So last night we laid him down and ganged up on him, trying to wear him out with games, songs and subterfuge. Two hours later...
A brief evening; a long morning to come. My head is full of houses.
@ 6:49:00 AM,

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