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It had not occurred to me that my uncle would have zero access to the internet (although to be fair, his daughter had given me a head’s-up – it just hadn’t fully registered how devoid of connectivity I would be).  I had the NHS chasing me for my Day-2 COVID test, the car dealership asking for my input on car choices, the Animal Transport company providing updates on Scout’s progress across three countries, and 25+ friends and family all asking how I was and where I was and, most importantly, how Scout was.  And no way to deal with it. 

Thank heavens for a kind next door neighbour who let me sit in her front room and/or front garden and use her wifi on and off for the next 2 days. 

But, boy oh boy, people were getting antsy to hear updates (again, the interest centered mostly around the dog).  Clearly my one-word answers were not what they were looking for.   

All is resolved now, and the lines of communication are re-opened. Scout sits behind me in my hotel room, supervising my work.

What a 24 hours!  I woke at 3:10 am on D-Day, and was go, go, go for the next 13 hours.  I left Scout with Animal Transport in the morning, and had someone been standing near me as I left they would have heard, “I’m not going to cry; I’m not going to cry.  Damn, I’m going to cry.”  But, the good news was, I still had so much to do that I stopped crying pretty quickly.  By the time Sibling 1 and I got to the checkout desk at Pearson six hours later, there was only one last thing to do: say good-bye.  Again, without crying.  Hmm.  Well, whatever.  I tried.

Then it seemed like no time and we had landed in Dublin.  Then on to Edinburgh, to what turned out to be the easiest customs crossing I’d ever done.  I had my vaccination certificate ready, along with my negative COVID test, my passport, you name it.  But they just waved me through.  Really? Okay.  Then on to rent the car, program the GPS (SatNav), and brave the streets of Scotland.  I was so wound up, and so anxious; it wasn’t until I’d been driving for 20 minutes before it dawned on me: “You’re here.  You’re really here!  You started thinking about this in December 2019 and now, 21 months later, you’re here.  Take a breath, look around, and appreciate the moment.”

So I did.  I was gliding along the motorway on a sunny day, through the beautiful Scottish countryside.  It felt wonderful.

I don’t post a lot on social media – I’ll re-post good causes from friends, but that’s about it.  But the one post I knew I was going to do was from the airplane, as we were taking off, announcing my departure on my big adventure.  Except, for the first time that I’m aware of, Facebook had shut down.  Completely. Well, how annoying.  Nonetheless, the plane took off and the adventure began, Mr. Zuckerberg et al notwithstanding.

4:13 a.m. I’ve been up since 3 o’clock. I drop Scout off at 9:00 a.m. for her 5:30 p.m. flight with KLM, then my Aer Lingus flight is 5:45 this afternoon.

Yesterday was quite the day – friend JK came to say good bye to Scout (and me, but mostly Scout), one friend did me a favour of driving me all over Halton to drop off thank you gifts at other friends’ houses. Sibling 2 had me over for dinner, and the the neighbours hosted a lovely send-off party. I will miss this street very much (but, you’re coming back, Elaine; you’re coming back).

Still feels like lots to do: packing is at about 85%; I have to return modem and satellite boxes via post office; there are still boxes for storage not yet fully packed (!); and I have just emptied the fridge of the last of the food – homemade applesauce and hard boiled eggs for breakfast and lunch today.

If I hadn’t hired a property manager/handy man – I don’t know where I would be right now. I am walking away from so many tasks that I had intended to complete myself, and there are boxes that I am just never going to fit in the storage room. Fortunately, I can count on SB for that – what a load off my mind all that delegation has been.

Time to sort out the last of Scout’s paperwork – and then, we’re off!

It’s less than two weeks until we go.

Up until now I’ve been focused on the organizing, and the process, and the newness of everything. Then, a couple of week ago, Sibling 1 offered to host an early Thanksgiving and Farewell Elaine dinner for the family. Whoa. “Farewell dinner”. Then some good friends sent me a beautiful going-away card. And my neighbours want to get together for a final drink. Suddenly excitement is turning to something else – this is starting to sink in. I’m leaving. I’m going away. I won’t see many of these people for two years – I’m not exactly sad, but this is not going to be easy. I know COVID has taught me you don’t have to be in the same room with someone to stay in touch, but this is the other side of a very big ocean.

Well, if homesickness comes, I’ll ride it out and focus on the positive. (and call my sisters. A lot.)

Well, last week I did it. I got on a plane for the first time in 24 months. We flew to Calgary (the epi-centre of Canada’s vocal anti-vaxxers). Pearson airport was excellent, not crowded, well maintained, very safety conscious. The flight wasn’t full so we were 2 in a row of 3. But we were twitchy, I guess partly being close to people again and after all that time away from travel – it wasn’t a comfortable ride and I think that was mostly our nerves. I suppose it was good practice for flying to Edinburgh. Calgary was great – everyone masked and distancing. Beautiful city.

This was all happening 3 weeks before D-Day, and I thought I couldn’t afford the time away from home, but stepping away from all the moving mayhem and spending 10 days with dear friends was exactly what I needed. Drinking my own weight in wine & gin every 48 hours was maybe something I didn’t need, but hey, whatevs.

I also didn’t need the Emergency Alert that set off all our phones the night before we were leaving – Alberta is going back into lockdown. Clearly time to get out of Dodge.

Scout stayed with her brother & cousin here in Milton. She loves being there, but every now and then can feel a tad out of her element. Below is what Sibling #2 looked up and saw one afternoon. Not disconcerting, no, not disconcerting at all. I wonder how long she had been sitting there, just staring?

Only 22 more sleeps! But so much to do. While I do feel on top of everything that has to be done, I also know that when one domino wobbles, a whole bunch more can fall. Flight booked: check. Movers & property manager booked: check. Cleaners, painters, & yard maintenance booked: almost. Storage locker built: almost. Scout’s trip booked: not until next week. Car sold: almost (and have to say I have the BEST friends – of all the jobs in the world, there are few I dread more than selling a car, and JL &BN have stepped up – the BEST!). Almost all of the above is being done with the help of friends and local businesses – I am a lucky girl. Only two things weighing me down: some tax issues (still waiting for my accountant!) and I have nowhere to live in Orkney. Trying not to dwell too much on that last thing.

This is getting real.  As of Thursday, I have a plane ticket, a place to quarantine in Scotland, renters here in Milton, movers, a contractor to build a storage locker in the basement, and seasonal property maintenance in place.  Still left to do? Sell the car, ship the dog, pack the household, and paint & clean the house.  Oh, and find a place to live in Orkney.  That last one is worrying.

I took the advice of a friend and downloaded Trello project management software.  What a difference it makes to staying on top of everything.  And there is A LOT to stay on top of.  I’ve have sorted the move into a variety of buckets like: The Dog, Finances, Milton House, Orkney Hoose, Packing, etc…  And then each bucket is full of tasks.  Dozens of tasks (quite possibly hundreds of tasks).  And it seems to be working – once I capture a task in the appropriate bucket, (say for example, checking the fire & carbon monoxide alarms, which is now a To-Do in the Milton House bucket), I can stop worrying about it.  The mental load is lifted. 

It is possible to go too far down the organizational road; last month I actually started a GANTT chart.  I started working back from D-Day, with blocks, and arrows, and deadlines, before I realized that might be a tad OTT.  So Trello it is.  And I do feel very efficient each morning as I sit down and update the list.  So there.

From a COVID perspective, for travellers arriving in Scotland the UK has rated Canada as an amber list country. (The US is a green list country, even tho Canada is outperforming both the US and the UK in new cases and per capita vaccinations, but now is not the time to start agonizing over areas outside my control.) Amber means 10-day self-isolation upon arrival, either alone or with family.  It looks like I will be able to quarantine at my uncle’s hoose (practicing my accent), but for a while I thought I was going to be 10 days in a self-catering unit in the countryside somewhere in Lanarkshire.

Before I realized I’d be staying with my uncle, I got thinking about the fact that I would need food – well, I always need food, obvs – I mean I’d be starting a 10-day pantry in a strange house completely from scratch.  So one day I sat down to check if one of the grocery stores would deliver to a cottage in the small village of Carnwath (Tesco does).  Then I began imagining the grocery list – I mean I would truly be starting from nothing.  So I started filling an online Tesco grocery cart full of the food I would need for 10 days in isolation.   Next thing I knew, I had wasted two hours online, cruising the food lists and creating an entirely imaginary shopping basket of groceries.  It was quite exciting: eggs by the half-dozen (so sensible); Rolo-flavoured custard; some kind of bread called a ‘bloomer’;  and every kind of frozen dinner imaginable, including something called Mr Brain’s Pork Faggots for 99p (really).

I’m not sure that was the highest and best use of a Sunday morning, but it was very entertaining.