Going away

We go on holiday tomorrow evening and I'm at that pre-holiday stage of feeling I can't really be bothered. But I'm sure it'll be nice when we're there. Having the cats makes everything so much more complicated. Our neighbour is feeding them for the first morning; then Daughter 1 comes for one night; then Daughter 2 for one night; then kind bloggy catsitters arrive for five days; then Daughter 2 and her actor bloke are doing the rest. I don't think that Cassie and Sirius are even particularly grateful for all this activity on their behalfs. They take it as their due.

Ridiculously, we'll miss the cats as well as the family. And the garden. I don't really like being away from the garden in the summer, when it's pretty. Apart from anything else, I leave it tidy but the weeds grow in our absence and so does the grass.

We're taking my mum with us but leaving my aunt with her carers. I feel guilty about this. It's not that we ever did go on holiday with my aunt, but I've been the one that the carers have phoned all summer if there's been a crisis.

I've now put her name down for 12 care homes. None of them has a room available at the moment. I hope they don't phone here in our absence and then, when we don't make contact, give the room to someone else. My aunt doesn't see the need for a care home, anyway. "I can look after myself," she says. But she can't. She's extremely forgetful, she can only shuffle about pushing a walker since she broke her hip and she's a bit incontinent. It's very sad.

Anyway, I haven't packed or even made a list of stuff to take yet, so I should really get on. Suffolk and Northumberland, here we come.

I hope you have a nice time in Edinburgh, kind catsitters!