So
here we are again. Six months on, we’re preparing to move Nick and his worldly
goods to a new address.
Here
are some of the things we still don’t know:
*Which
day of this week the move will happen.
Assuming
it will be this week.
I’m
writing this on Monday morning and I am supposed to be working every day this
week. There didn’t seem any point in cancelling when we didn’t have a date from
the moving company (the lovely ones who did the original move from Consett and packed
everything up for us. All paid for by the insurance company as part of Nick’s après-flood
relocation) They know Nick and made everything so easy for him – and me – so we
were thrilled to find that the “return” part of the move had been factored in
by the insurers. Just one snag, the boss was on holiday and they couldn’t give
us a definite date…
At
first we thought it might be last week, then possibly even next. It’s been hard
to organise anything when we don’t know. I don’t want Nick to be sitting in an
empty room full of boxes until the last possible moment, or paying two lots of
bills.
He’s
supposed to be out by the end of this week, but the landlord has been kind and
said he doesn’t mind a few days’ overlap. He can’t let the flat again until he’s
had the wrecked bathroom completely ripped out and refitted, along with all the
other things Nick has inadvertently trashed. So we do have some leeway there. But
right now, we are just hanging fire.
Frighteningly
though, we also don’t know:
*Who
will be Nick’s new care providers since Acme are unable to continue their
service in a different postcode.
*Will
there be any care providers at all, as the social worker told me on Friday
afternoon that she hadn’t been able to find anyone.
When
she said this I felt like jamming my fingers in my ears and singing, “La la la I can’t hear you” because I
mean, WHAAAT???
Oh
and by the way, it’s son & heir’s 18th birthday at the weekend.
I
think this is the kind of situation where the phrase “Keep Calm and Carry On” is the best advice (and by the way, back in
the long-ago days when Nick was still driving, we tootled up the coast to
Alnwick and he introduced me to the wonderful Barter Books, who first brought
out that poster. It was just one of their little quirks, reproduced from old
wartime propaganda and fresh off the press. I bought one for my father in law
and wish I’d kept one for me too before the whole thing just went global, and
increasingly silly.
It
is still super-good advice though and probably the only thing to do in the
circs.
