Last night I cried uncontrollably. 'Oh don't do that', Mum laughed. It was her fault - or maybe it was everything - the tension in my body for waiting a week and a half for an offer on the house to be accepted, the thought it might not be, contemplating leaving this incredible garden of 16 years hard work, worry about money, just general life. Because every time things felt a little tough, I got a little sad, because Dad not being around somehow made it worse. And I hadn't slept much, either.

We were annoyed with the real estate agent, or realo, as we call them here. She was a bit of a bitch. Little comments disguised as humour, or just outright barbs: 'oh, have you got the money for that place?' or 'well, you're selling a house, so it's not as if you can't afford it', and so on. She was difficult, and Jamie was getting his back up. We did not want to pay the asking price for this house, and couldn't afford to.

However, there was so much going for it for the money:

• location, location, location
• a 10 x 5 shed, which is hard to get already built in the area
• north facing
• brick
• a quiet street
• everything else in this area for that money is a knock down - it's hard to get into this area at all

And I wanted it. I'd already renovated it in my head. Hence the sleepless nights. The vendors weren't budging on the price, she said. Insisted. So we offer 50 k more. WE were aware we were likely being played, but as I said to Jamie, we'll at least break even, and at best, when we sell our house, come out with a hundred thousand ahead. I just couldn't see anything else coming up like that for the money, and with Spring coming up, things were going to get busier.

It was worth what we offered to me. Jamie said it didn't matter - something else would come up. But I felt really disappointed, knowing we wouldn't get it. I was telling myself that a missed opportunity just means another door opening or some such bollocks. My inner child was anxious and a little depressed. I wanted it so badly.

And then she called, saying the vendors agreed.

Cue me, crying, and calling my Mum.

'Oh, Dad would be so pleased for you', she said.

And he would have been. I could hear him. See his face. Feel his genuine pleasure for us.

Fucking hell. We have a house on the coast.

I'm still a bit emotional.