Nick is safely installed in his new flat. He broke the loo seat the first time he sat down on it and has already lost both sets of keys.
We don't have a keysafe yet because the council officer who processed my request a fortnight ago is not returning my calls, so I have given my keys to one of the new carers (unbelievably bad practice but at the moment there is no other way to get in as Nick doesn't hear the buzzer) and the TV is yet to be tuned in because the man we'd booked a week ago didn't turn up, but Nick is happy and seems to like his new place.
One of the cats came with him and the other one is still hiding under the bath at the old flat. Ironically it's the one we had managed to catch and take home with us the first time round, when Nick moved here in May. The one that ran away and had to be rescued a week later when I drove back up to Consett to find her, seems quite chilled out and is exploring the new terrain amidst all the boxes we haven't unpacked yet.
And here's the crazy thing: despite all the paperwork stating that tenants must not keep pets, and all our fretting about how Nick would cope if we had to give them away, we discovered that the new place is crawling with cats. Everyone seems to have one! If anything, the main problem with keeping a cat here is going to be the inevitable turf wars.
So here we are. He's in. An outrageous amount of things yet to do but he's in.
And I am doing 16 hour days and too tired to write.
