Flat out 

Back in September I told you of our journey south to help the Ma-in-Law pack up and move north. At the time I was hoping all would go well. It did, and she is settling nicely into a lovely flat and preparing to vote in her first Scottish election. I think and hope she is happy with her decision to move. 

I also said that we thought the Mater should similarly downsize, though that looked less likely at the time. 

Well, to cut a long story short (as she would say), a nice place was spotted, purchased and the deed was done. On top of that, the house which has been home to the Mater for more than 30 years sold quickly and easily and everything looked good to go. 

Except, the two ladies are not the same by any means and this move is a much harder one in many ways – physically, emotionally, psychologically, organisationally. 

While she does accept the benefits of moving, my 80-something Mater does not really want to leave the last home she shared with the Pater. It is hard and she is not really prepared. 

And I am about as stressed as I can remember being for a long time (2010 actually). There is so much left to do in the old house, the new house and everything in between. 

We are three days from the move and I am sitting up at 3.30am blogging this because my brain will not stop spinning. There is too much for me to think about and I feel quite lost, so no wonder the Mater has regular tears. 

I guess things will work out fine, and I know it is the right thing to do, but I have asked so much of her and I wish I hadn’t had to. 

So, more and proper detail to come later but for now you can have this uncrafted, unhappy brain dump. 

There is no amusing sign off to this blog but I do hope it has a happy ending. 

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