Aberdeen Nightscape.

Yesterday I predicted that >50% of the flats M and I thought were acceptable would have been let before I could make us a booking. Turns out it was >66%. I've just had to delete a little rant I wrote directly after this sentence; today I am writing my daily blurb in my lunchbreak at work. Directly after writing that M and I would never find anywhere to live; detailing how frustrating the search is, I got a call from M. The background to the following good news is that M's Dad has been renovating a house on the same street that he and M's Mum live on; a lovely road in Ferryhill - full of beautiful granite houses with large gardens. The house he's been working on looked lovely from the outside, but the owners had completely stripped back the inside and it was an interesting, although huge, project for M's Dad to complete. The house is now 99% finished, but the owners are still living in the Middle East somewhere, on a long-term-temporary contract for an Oil and Gas operator. The owners also have a flat in another nice area of Aberdeen, and M's Dad had asked if perhaps the owner would be interested in leasing the flat to M and I. Unfortunately, the answer was no, as the flat had to be sold for tax reasons. However... If M and I would be happy to house-sit for a little while (a period that may stretch to two years), the owner would really appreciate it. A 6-bedroom house in Ferryhill? Well, it'd be a squeeze, but I'm sure we could manage...! I'm more excited than I can even write. We're going to have another look after work (M's Dad has the keys since he's still working on the final details like light fittings).

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Well, that's M and I back from a sneaky peek round the house.... it's absolutely beautiful; many more bedrooms than we would need, two wood-burning stoves, a brand new kitchen, several bathrooms, a huge garden, massive bay windows in every room and hardwood floors throughout. It's a bit scary-big and I'm having a bit of a freak-out if I'm honest... It's such a change from mine and M's cosy little one-bedroom flat which is small but feels like home. I worry we won't be able to make it 'ours'... M's telling me that I'll feel differently once we've put some furniture in it (he has plenty of antique pieces he's collected over the years, some of which has been in storage so long I've not even seen it)... It sounds ridiculous but it's a really scary prospect moving into somewhere SO BIG. What will happen if M goes away on a trip and I'm left alone? These are the kinds of houses people get murdered by the butler in (although in fairness, it doesn't come with a butler. Would we need a butler? Would Hercule Poirot drop by as a moustached French omen that a horrible thing would happen? Would it still happen if we just told him to bugger off at the door?)... Agh. Sleep on it.