When I went to bed last night, everything was packed. Well, everything except my toiletries, technology, and anything in the fridge. I had asked my landlord if he wanted to come by at 9:45 to hand over the keys (which would have meant being ready by 9:30 just in case he was early), but he was busy and said to leave them under a rock. So this meant no rush; I had just gained another half hour.
He had made it very clear that I was to be out by 10:00 a.m. That gave me lots of time. Up at 6:30, tea, a walk on a beautiful morning, then back to the house to do some last minute tidying, clean the bathroom, and pack the car. But.
But, late the day before I had received an email from my accountant, needing more documents (see previous post), and that took a little time, plus, I was supposed to be sending out my club’s monthly newsletter (well that was a disaster). Suddenly, it was 9:30 – finances done, but still packing up and cleaning to do, and newsletter not sent – well, the race was on. Remember Samantha Stevens in Bewitched? She’d twinkle her nose, speed herself up, and race around getting things done – that was me (the dog watched in fascination and dismay). At 9:58 I had shoved the last suitcase out onto the driveway, done one last swoop around the house (I never did mop the kitchen or utility room floors), and had hidden the key under a stone. Then another four minutes to shove everything willy-nilly into the car – by 10:02 I had vacated the house and the driveway. Whew.
But I still had so much to do before showing up at noon at the Community Fridge for my last volunteer stint on Orkney. So here’s what I did in under two hours:
- Out to the Hatston recycling centre with my last bag of garbage, then over to the vet for Scout’s flea & tick meds.
- Park overlooking the harbour and put on my make-up (there’s no need to drop standards just because it’s my last day).
- Drive back into town, head into the library, log on, and send out a pathetic excuse for a newsletter (sorry members of CFUW Milton; next month will be better).
- Zip back out to Hatston for an early lunch at my favourite food truck. Take the food back to the harbour parking lot and dine in-car on an amazing nduja rigatoni. Then get out of the car, pull everything (including the dog) out and re-pack. Those who know me know how I like a well-packed car. (Last winter my cousin-in-law was both impressed with my Tetris-packed trunk (boot), and unimpressed that he had to play Jenga and haul out all those cases, and gift bags, and coolers, and knapsacks to get at the emergency tire repair kit.)
- Then after all that, I re-loaded the car, calmly drove into town, and headed into the Community Fridge for the next two hours. Even though dogs aren’t allowed because there’s food involved (I must say, restaurants, pubs, cafes, and food shops all interpret those laws differently over here), I took Scout anyways. After all, what were they going to do, fire me? And I relaxed.
More to come on my farewell tour.