D DAY

Departure day is upon us. House now cleared. Car loaded. Off to see Jim Darling at the car auctions who will take the car and sell it. Then overnight by the airport and fly out to Wales tomorrow. Seems such a hassle when you start. But when all the pieces fall in, it seems a piece of piss. Adios, Dunbar, farewell Cockburnspath.
I have written about half of my new book - the motivation for leaving the UK, (not difficult). The other half can not be written until we have lived in Spain for some time and I can make some intelligent appraisal of the social, political, economic and life-style differences.
This blog should help string some chronological and coherent thoughts together.

TOMORROW - THE BIG DAY (Monday)

What looked like a pin prick of light at the end of the tunnel has hurtled towards us. My great fear was that cancer, hypertension or renal failure would pull me under before I could reach the shore. Now I await the removal van in the morning - (Monday). The removal co. asked if they could clear the house in two lifts. We agreed; so they started yesterday. To quote Bernice, it is hard to believe we could accumulate so much shit. Seventy-odd boxes (2 cubic ft each) were taken away yesterday plus all the furniture except the bed.
As our new home is sans electricity we are leaving all the kitchen equipment - fridge/freezer, microwave, cooker, washing machine etc. Nonetheless our two bedroom cottage had sufficient odds and sods to fill the truck. Moreover, when they return tomorrow morning for the bed, there are another six boxes of clothes and afterthoughts to go.
The house seems a little eerie now, even a bit echoey. I had not realised how much character pictures gave a house. We had accumulated so many pictures between us that the house was awash with them - the sittingroom walls displayed no fewer than eleven. Now the whitewashed walls look anaemic and devoid of life.
Moving house, for most people, involves mixed emotions - nostalgia, sentimentality and some sadness.
For us, the pain is minimal. The one factor that makes the move so utterly positive is the relentlessness of the long Scottish winter. It grabs hold of the country about Halloween and never releases its icy grip (apart from the odd callous false dawn) until May. There may be one or two days in between when the wind drops, the rain stops, the sun breaks through and Scots start talking to each other in the street. But Gabriel at the Lord's elbow immediately whispers "Dinnae spoil them Lord - they'll be enjoying themselves next".
Despite the warmth of so many individuals plus their sincere and kind wishes any regrets pale into insignificance at the prospect of the life ahead.
Blog now suspended till we start again in Spain in about a week

ROUTINE ADMIN

Our old emails at btinternet.com will cease to exist in the next couple of days. The virgin.net address has already ceased to be. Henceforth all email for DOW will be dow.wtc@googlemail.com and for Bean : bernice.wtc@googlemail.com
Mail to Apartado 81, Herrera Del Duque 06670, Badajoz, Spain.

BeanScene

BEAN HERE. Phew, what a week that was. Glad that one's behind us. Exit date too close for the emotional rollercoaster and drama that we went through over the past 7 days. The Whites are made of fighting stuff - lesser mortals wouldn't have seen the light of day.

Weather in Scotland really getting me down. Hostile winds, rain, sleet - however it is perfect packing weather. Didn't know we could hoard such shit. 8 Sleeps left. Yippeee.

Responses to my leaving have been overwhelming - very kind words; sincere sentiments of past dealings and some very touching and complimentary wishes. Leaving party on Thursday 25th January - a Fizzy Tea - a la Bean. 25th January is famous for Alan White's birthday also someone called Robert Burns.

POSITIVELY UPBEAT

See GP who tells me blood toxic counts are down. Looks like I don't need a second stent to help drain the kidney. Hospital doesn't need a PSA (cancer detection) till March, so it looks as if I can finish my dig under the wire and finally stand up taking great lungs full of Spanish air.
Irony of ironies - I spend 5 hours back in the Western General Hospital yesterday waiting for Bernice who underwent an op for a urinary problem. Finally get away at 1830 but poor Bean is shagged out and lost her sparkle from an armful of anaesthesia.
Hopefully no more dreary stuff and this blog can get on with its original mission statement of being entertaining, profane and funny.
Pax vobiscum.

LESS DREARY STILL

Received telephone call from WGH this morning. I was on the agenda of a multi-disciplinary meeting (onconologists, urologists etc). They are not too concerned about the raised PSA (Prostate Cancer Gauge) as it is too soon after the new hormone treatment to see a reversal in the climb. So the cancer scare is less immediate than feared. Told to send them my next PSA reading by email from Spain - which means they are more laid back than one hoped. Still having the blood checked for Kidney malfunction to see if toxic count is down. Main issue is that I now feel fine with nausea gone and lethargy much less in evidence.

LESS DREARY

With our emigration date - Jan 29th - rapidly approaching, I am beginning to feel like one of the POWs in those Stalag movies of yesteryear. You know the genre. Determined POWs start tunnelling under their hut and after many months they calculate they are outside the barbed wire boundary fence. Poor bastards, covered in sweat and grime, physically exhausted and struggling for oxygen finally reach exit point. Gently they dig upwards until a little breath of air establishes they are through. Slowly they widen the hole only to find the barrel of a Mauser pointing down at them. "Not so fast, Britisher, Herr Colonel Krupp would like to speak with you."
However even if I have to postpone our departure date, I WILL make it.