Hubby is going to do a concentrated search in the Moray Firth area over the next few days - without me. I've set him up a fairly heavy schedule, so it should keep him out of mischief, and I'm quietly confident (well that's put the curse on things) that we'll find something. On paper several of the properties (including the first one he's seeing tomorrow) look wonderful. However, we all know that Estate Agents' details are so often the work of fiction :-) Believe me, when we saw what had been said about our house, not to mention the photographs, we wondered just whose house our EA had visited :-) Slight exaggeration, but I'm sure you get the picture.
He's actually renting another (we don't do things by halves, you know) very small holiday cottage - it would have been impossible for me to go as well, it certainly isn't suitable for a disabled person - in Portknockie. He will stay there and pop back here (I say 'pop' with a tongue in cheek, as we're talking at least a three-and-a-half-hour drive, which I know is nothing for a lot of my American cousins) on occasions. He's going to view around eighteen properties and then can rule those out that are simply not suitable and then I can go along and see any that are.
Basically each trip was costing us at least a tank of petrol (Volvos have large tummies) at circa £50.00 per trip, and this second rental will work out so much cheaper, even though he isn't going to be there for the entire time we've rented it. The cost was one thing (and not to be sneezed at), but even worse was the intense pain and discomfort it was causing me. I was having to up my Morphine and take liquid Morphine en-route, which was doping me up so much that I think it, plus the increased pain, might have been distorting my opinions on the properties. I have an extremely high tolerance to pain killers (and to make it worse a extremely low pain threshold) and to make me feel 'doped' is quite something!
Tansy is staying with me this time and she is already not a happy bunny (or even doggie) and is sulking and wandering around the cottage doing her 'dying swan act'. She always has been a 'daddy's dog' and this has got more apparent as I became more disabled. I can't walk her or anything like that, so it's natural she'd prefer hubby. Still I'm the one who'll be feeding her, so I'm sure she'll perk up - she does do sulking so well, like most animals!
I've spoken to so many Estate Agents over the last twenty-four hours that I feel almost giddy. And of all the ones I spoke to, only one was what I consider 'unhelpful', and behaved as though selling properties was the last thing on her mind.