Last Monday, a new listing came on the market—absolutely perfect, at least online. Forty acres, an old, historic schoolhouse, a well and pump, and adjoining a national forest.

Ah . . .

By Wednesday, there was a contract on it. Dammit.

I’m still hopeful, but we’d planned to see it on Sunday, assuming the contract had not yet been accepted, however, there was a glitch:

Wednesday afternoon, my father-in-law was coming home from grocery shopping and took a spill. He ended up lying in his garage for 28 hours, and it was just an accident that my brother-in-law happened to be trying to reach him. He’s spent the last few days in the hospital, recovering, and is expected to move to rehab early this week. After that, we’ll see.

He’s 86 years old, lives alone, and usually manages pretty well. But I think the time has come for him to rethink his options—actually, the time came a few years ago, but he’s kind of stubborn. Ha. Understatement of the year . . .

And no, nothing broken, just bad bruising and of course he’s really shook up. My husband went down there on Thursday and has been with him since, heading home today.

But, we have plans later this week to see that property, again, if it’s still available, and one other that seems promising, in the same area.

Of course, we’ll have to play everything by ear at this point, as my father-in-law’s situation is still kind of up in the air . . .