Moving day was set for 13th November 2023 - the house sale was for real, with contracts exchanged for completion 14th November. Over many weeks we'd worked hard, sifting through over 20 years of 'life' and determining various fates. As it turned out, however ruthless we had been, we could have been much more.
Friday 10th November was the last day 'in the office' for both Liz and John and this is his last view of Whitley, at 3:30pm - empty! Liz was truly spoiled with bacon and maple syrup waffles from the farm shop, a card and gifts. I will really miss the guys in the office, but look forward to speaking to them every day from my home office.
Over the weekend we had 2 last things on in Leamington - ramen making class at 'The Farm' Stratford Upon Avon, which was excellent, and Liz reading intercessions at church on Sunday which was 'tricky' given a world at war on Armistice Day.
Monday 13th November
Liz:
Moving day arrived and we tried to dose the cats up with chill pills. Two out of three took them, but Flo wasn't playing ball. We popped them in their crates and into the back of John's car. I had been worrying about the journey all week as it was such a long time for the cats to be cooped up. We had lined the crates with blankets and then again with absorbent disposable mats as there were bound to be accidents. I said goodbye to John, feeling bad for leaving him to do the truck packing by himself, and fretting about what he would prioritise to leave behind when the little trucks were full.
Lo and behold, 5 minutes in to the journey the car smelled biscuity and I pulled over to clean up a pile of sick which was, thankfully, at the very edge of the crate. Half an hour later I was looking to pull off the motorway to check on them as there was a lot of mewling and crying. All was fine and I set off again straight away. Another hour and a half and I stopped again, after listening to them (and talking back) the whole time, and tried putting a little water in a tub for them, but they weren't interested. I grabbed myself a coffee and got on the road again, but didn't touch the coffee for another 2 hours as the road was so wet, with high winds, there was so much spray, and so much traffic that I was too nervous to take my hands off the wheel! At three and a half hours in the car filled with the smell of cat poop and I was forced to stop again at the next services. I managed to pull all of the absorbent pads out of Lucy and Jeremy's crate and threw them away. All clean again.
I resolved not to stop again unless absolutely necessary. Over the next 4 hours the cats quietened down and I wasn't sure which was worse - were they alright? The weather and traffic eased after the Lake District and I enjoyed driving towards a couple of beautiful rainbows, and watching mini-rainbows in the spray from the lorries tyres. It all seemed like good omens of a happy start of our new life.
I arrived at Clacheranmor and unpacked the car, let the cats out into our bedroom, fed and watered them and gave them some love and they seemed happy, except for a small cut to Flo's face where she had tried to escape her confines in the car. I turned on the AGA and found the stop cock and got the kettle on.
When John arrived he looked exhausted, understandably, but I was disappointed when he opted for separate bedrooms on our first official night in our new house. I could hear him all night groaning in pain and assumed it was the suspected Crohn's, although I knew even at that point that Crohn's didn't fit his symptoms, but didn't think much more of it at that point.
John:
The removals guys came bright and early, and made an initial assessment of what we wanted to move - you'll be lucky, but we'll give it a go, was the honest view. The guys got as much stuff into the vans as they possibly could - they really did, and the bits we couldn't fit we either left behind or dropped with a neighbour, Chris and Louise, for them to keep, sell or dispose of. Alan and Lorraine, Ewan and Mandy, and Charlotte and Alex all came to say goodbye during the melee - it was lovely.
The vans doors were locked shut and I spent another 1/2 hour just double checking the house was in a half reasonable state before setting off on the long journey at 1pm. I had no emotions or tears about leaving the house - it had served its purpose and was no longer home ... but I was also probably starting to struggle physically.
The journey was wet. Although trafficky, it was still the standard 7 hours end to end. The first stop was at the services before Keele, about an hour and a half into the journey. I needed a wee and had a sausage roll. Immediately I felt indigestion and started to chomp on indigestion tablets and swig on Gaviscon - they made no difference. I stopped again at the services near Lancaster, the one with the flying saucer design and urgency for a pee went from mild to immediate as soon as I got out the car.
Liz's car looked good and got some admiring glances, and I got the hazard lights stuck on for about a mile before pulling over and pulling the switch out - situation recovered! I can’t remember where I stopped again but I did, and I got my free birthday Costa cake and ate it (salted caramel). I’d meant to save it for Liz. Then I got round Glasgow and up Loch Lomond, and by now it was well past dark.
Rest and be Thankful was thankfully open (after the recent landslides) and I stopped and had a wee at the top before the last stretch down Loch Fyne to home. This last 40 minutes was hard. Acid reflux had not abated and Liz had texted asking for directions to the stop cock - it was a balance between pressing on and stopping to give directions.
We managed to get the car empty of everything - indoor plants mainly, which would have not done well in the van. Kindly, Heather (our next door neighbour) had made a chilli for us and Liz cooked rice. I ate probably about 1/2 a main portion and went to bed exhausted. What should have been elation was not present - I was struggling. In the second bedroom that night, I was sat upright getting little or no sleep. The week before the move I went into the Nuffield for a gastroscopy only to be told it was all normal, but there was clear inflammation in my small bowel on the CT and it was almost certainly Crohn's. So, I'd been on steroids for nearly a week and took my daily dose early, at 5am, to see if this would help and drank about a litre of apple juice. To no avail, and things went from bad to terrible to worse to catastrophic very quickly.
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