It's been emotional....but we have had duck in a tin!

We have finally left the house.  It's funny how emotional it was.  I wasn't expecting it but it's a little annoying to have finally managed to decorate it and turn the garden into a garden rather than a mud bath only to leave the country and rent it out! Oh well.

The kids have almost missed the whole process.  Admittedly Isobel had a slight fit when I had to stop her running into the newly cleaned house.  She was a little confused as to why she wasn't allowed into her home.  But after pulling every muscle in my body scrubbing the floor and wiping down the toilets, I couldn't bring myself to let her run in with her playdoh covered shoes! 

We had scheduled in our last day to be a day for the mammouth clean.  No kids, they were meant to be in nursery.  Just a day of scrubbing and dusting.  However, Arthur had different ideas.  Conjunctivitis ideas.  Nursery wouldn't let him in so he came to help.  Running around the house with a sharpie (i.e a pen that doesn't come off - no matter how hard you try!).  Not quite my idea of helping.  We finally left the house and headed off up North to visit family.  Straight onto the M25 and straight into the biggest jam we've ever had to deal with.  Two kids trying to kill each other squashed into the back due to the slightly overfilled car pushing their car seats together and a traffic jam.  It took an hour to go 2.5 miles.  And not a gin in sight. Oh the trauma.  But, with a positive view on things, I suppose it was preparing us for the Dhaka traffic.

The biggest challenge has probably been saying goodbye to my mum and dad.  They are old now, mid 70's.  But still young in spirit! They aren't the most emotional of people, well not when it comes to expressing it anyway.  I've never really been able to talk properly to them about the depression, I just wasn't sure how they would react.  When my mum and I did talk about it it was clear that she had had challenges too and in an era when it was a lot less talked about.  She is emotional about us going.  It really dawned on me that one day she won't be here and for all the times you think your mum is nagging or whatever, the positives easily outweigh all of that and one day she won't be there on the end of the phone chatting away about someone in the house next door and whether they have or haven't cut their hedges.  She says she won't see the kids grow into adults, unless she lives for another 12 years which is possible as I pointed out! She said she won't see me open my little B and B I'd like to open in the Cheviots where I would bake sourdough for breakfast and feed to weary walkers.  Our leaving for Dhaka has made her think about all of this and made me feel even more emotional about leaving.  Isobel likes to just look at me and ask "why mummy crying?"....

Anyway, on a different and more uplifting note we have eaten the duck in a tin.  What a delight it was!  I was hoping to share some photos but they won't upload so a description will have to do - the tin was opened, and inside there was a mass of duck fat (mmh, yum...?).  Hiding beneath were 5 duck legs, already cooked, just waiting the reheat.  Into a pan for a few minutes and then out onto a plate, complete with lovely green beans and baked potatoes with rosemary and garlic.  The result?  A lovely lovely meal.  The french sure know how to tin a duck!

This post is for Becca who isn't worried about photos of duck in a tin and looked after me so well last night with pizza and red wine! Thank you.