Finally, work has come to an end, and I now have time to concentrate on other things. My last shift at work was an experience, 7 o’clock came, and it was time for my staff to sign out and go home. The usual queue formed, but this time it was different. Instead of the usual ‘bye’ or ‘see you’, there was a handshake, from every one of them, all thirty. One of the ‘lads’, from whom I was expecting a ‘big handshake’, who was at the back of the queue, must have sensed that my right hand was ready for falling off, and toned it down slightly. There was even a ‘viva espania’ from one, a Polish man with little English, so that was a nice touch, it must have taken some doing, the simple things quite often mean the most. Time to leave, with my ‘co-pilot’, Greg, now being the ‘pilot’. Up to the gatehouse, to sign out, and hand in my Hi-viz vest and fob. In the car park, most of the people had gone when I started my car, but the few remaining, decided that it was polite to let me go through the gates first. This was quite amusing, as the gates are electronically operated, by means of a fob, which I had just handed in. The penny dropped after a minute or so, and someone opened the gates for me, we could have been there a while, and so off home for some much needed sleep. Working rotating shifts was never a problem really, but the last set of nights had taken it out of me. Getting up early, and trying to smile at people coming to view our house, and answer all their questions sensibly, was hard going. Renting our house out was always a ‘had to do’ part of the planning really, the rent from this one, covering the rent for the one in Spain. We are going with a ‘nice young’ couple, we understand their choice of house, they are expecting their first child, and there are good schools etc, close by. So, that seems to be coming on nicely, at least one part of the ‘master plan’ is working.
Linda finishes work on Friday, and I think she is quite nervous about it, having worked at the hospital for about twenty years. And so, on Saturday, the hard work of packing up our lives here really gets underway. I am a relatively new person on the street, only having been here about seventeen years, but Linda has lived here about thirty five years, and so leaving will be a greater wrench for her. Her children grew up here; there will be a lot of memories to pack up as well as physical things. We now have to look at the house as an income, rather than a home, not always easily done. One look outside, at the grey and wet miserable January weather, should make this a little easier. I am still amazed at the amount of things I am finding that I had ‘forgotten’ I had. Choosing those ‘essentials’ items that you just can’t live without, is getting harder, and I am having to be more mercenary as the days go by, the suitcase is not a ‘tardis’, and will not get any larger. Do I really need that ‘deckchair style’ material sleeveless shirt, which is a little snug fitting, seriously faded, but goes back nearly two decades, to the pre marriage era in my life? Never went on holiday without it, its caused a few rows when packing for jaunts to sunnier climbs, one year I actually refused to travel without it! Hmm. Maybe its just time to let go. On with the packing.