It does look like it will really happen.
After false starts, delays and attempts to persuade us to move somewhere else (so that an Important Person could have the house earmarked for us), problems with the maintenance crews and almost everything else, we have a confirmed key-handing over ceremony for next Tuesday morning.
Prima is flying over to help with the chaos, bring her mother cups of tea and generally make herself useful. She is in the air as I write this and lands here tomorrow morning at 6, inshallah, as they say here. Fourteen hours flying, poor wus.
The packers will arrive on Wednesday and do the heavy packing and lifting (especially of the 1000+ books), finishing sometime late Thursday night.
The cats go to the vet for the duration on Tuesday afternoon.
I have devised plans for each room which Marius has printed on A3 for me, and which I will stick on the doors and walls to help the furniture placement.
We will be without internet for a few days (oh, and a little busy!) so I will check back in post-upheaval.
Really though, do you have a spare bed? Could I come and hide at yours for a few days? No one would notice me, I'm very quiet, don't eat much ... why did I ever think this would be a good idea?
Last weekend we found these on the lawn:
Bigger than hens' eggs -- probably peacocks' eggs I reckon. The next day they were gone, no sign of broken shell, far too big for a bird to move, so somebody must have pinched them.