Scotland was as usual delightful, the days I had off to drive around the highlands in my little black Panda making up for the hard work and long hours. I just loved the freedom to go wherever I wanted without the fear of being attacked, as in my own country there was nowhere that I can go hiking on my own, and I sometimes love just sitting quietly, waiting for some creature to make itself visible.
I phoned the agent immediately to hear if the keys to the main house had been sent, and halleluja, she assured me that she indeed have it. So the first week-end Irma, the kids and myself set out for Haarlem, all of us very anxious to see what my house looked like inside.

It was with great expectation that I opened my front door, but I just wanted to close it again, as the sight that met our eyes was so horrific that I was on the point of leaving, never to come back! As it was the front door I unlocked, I took it to be the sittingroom, and this room was in a state of total collapse. There must have been a cement floor long-long ago, as there was a few pieces showing, but the rest was just earth, with a few grey-green grasses struggling to stay alive! The plastering on the walls had also given up clinging on, only patches of it remaining here and there. In front of one of the windows a bloodred piece of curtain flapped in the breeze that blew in through the space where the window had lost touch with the frame, giving the whole room a feeling of macabre gayity! I cried! It was a nightmare, as the spiders that had bred undesturbed  for how many years had almost cocooned the whole roof in their webs, and sat staring at us from every available space! I cried some more, lustily and heartily! The kitchen looked a bit better, as it had a ceiling, well, kind of, as most of it was hanging in shreds, but the floor was almost intact, and the plaster looked a lot more stable than in the sitting room. My flattened spirit lifted a bit when I saw the huge fireplace where I could easily visualise myself busily knitting or reading in front of a big fire. There was a small kind of scullery at the back, where a big gaping hole showed where the zink and taps were broken out of the wall, a piece underneath the window was missing, and the floor non existent. The one bedroom was not bad, the floor at least intact, and the walls had a lot less plaster missing. The second bedroom had no window at all, the sun had burned it to dust, and a rusted roofplate was wedged in front of it with a heavy iron post. I was hyperventilating! Badly! Irma was quiet! The two girls were round eyed, but giggling! So we hastend back to Irma's house, made a pot of strong tea, and sat lamenting for the rest of the day. I was unable to see any light, and knew that it would take some time and a lot of hard work before I would be able to live in that bally hovel. I was longing suddenly for my lovely clean and comfy kitchen in the flat, where I might not have a huge fireplace, but at least it had all the amenities necessary for decent living.