It has begun!
A couple of Sundays ago we were getting ready to put our flat on show and the agent told us the showday would be from 11am to 5pm and that we could not be in our flat during that time. We had decided to go out somewhere nice and have breakfast and coffee and just walk around, browse through book shops, watch people, maybe go to the Flea Market which is open on a Sunday. We were dreading having to come home after 5pm to be perhaps told that no-one had made an offer or that perhaps someone had...very confusing assortment of feelings. We were also most unhappy with the idea of strangers' critical eyes and dirty shoes having been in our beautiful space while we were out. Not a nice feeling...somewhat invasive.
But...three days before our showday, a lady who lives in our building heard that we were selling, came up to have a look, loved the flat, made a very fair offer and we accepted...just like that...leaving us rather shell-shocked! When she left we suddenly both felt a little panicked to think that we would not have a home and probably sooner than later. Of course no showday happened (unhappy agent) but we were thrilled (happy, happy us).
The buyer's bond still needs to be approved and from 'it has begun' it could very well be 'it will begin' but she said she was very confident that it would go smoothly.
So we are waiting for that approval, but in the meantime our minds are slowly getting used to the fact that we are leaving our city, our nest, our best friends, my school friend, and my brother/sister in law and everything that is so familiar to us. Our whole past.
It feels like a difficult transition, and yet it is very exciting for us to have such a beautiful adventure in our later life and experience living in a different city, looking for a nice place to live, decorating a new space and having fun exploring our new environment, it is rather thrilling.
Cath is happy we are going to be living closer and for us it will be lovely to get to know Joel better, as every time we see him we discover more and more the lovely man that he is.
For Mothers' Day Cathy surprised me with an SMS, 'I've got your Mother's Day present!' I was happy she had remembered, as she had her own big move happening, to their new house, and when I SMS'd back jokingly asking how long I had to wait for it, she SMS'd the following, 'In 2 weeks time u can wing yr way to spend a week with yr daughter and man in their new house. U keen?'
Well, hell, of course I am keen, and surprised, and thankful, and grateful, and spoilt, and loved. So I'll be on my way to Cape Town for a week in two week's time and, like a kid, am counting the days. Lovely to fly, lovely to be with Cath and Joel and see Nala (dog) and THE new house. Lovely to be in CT again and we will look at flats while I'm there. Maybe I can even find something straightaway.
But...as my Mom used to say (she was not always very positive), 'Life is a cake of sh*t, and everyday you eat a slice!' My slice of sh*t today was Tony being as sick as a dog, puking, headachy, weak, tired, cold and completely out of it and having to go to the hospital for his Barium Swallow X-ray. I half dragged him from the car park to the clinic and when it was his turn to go into the X-ray room, the room was freezing. He had on a jacket with a zipper but...not allowed to have metal while being X-rayed. So there's Tony lying with just a shirt, sick, white, looking into the distance and shaking from the cold. There was only one thing to do. I took my jacket off, zapped off my top (no zippers) and put it on him. Suddenly there I am standing in my little vest with three Radiologists staring, and the queue of people who are waiting, all staring (there's not much else to do in a queue). I felt a bit self-conscious (not too much) and casually put my outer jacket back on.
Tony is now lying in bed with his electric blanket on. These symptoms are due to cortisone withdrawal as he is being weaned off slowly...a long story which I will not bore you with here. But hell, a slice of sh*t it sure is. Thanks Mom!
