Let’s just be grateful for this crazy house of fun

The parents are settled in, almost, but Fiona finds there’s still plenty to keep her, the chief and the MacNaughties occupied

Well, tis done – and they are in.

My parents are installed in their lochside home and the chief and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Moving two reluctants and dealing with the delight and debris of decades of someone’s life has been testing.

But the new abode is a compact, comfy place. It is stairless and manageable. A brave new world for loved ones.

Outside the elements are not so benign.

On the first night in the new hoose the loch freezes over. Dawn breaks and we see ducks and swans skidding about on the ice. Then it snows like billy-o. A real whiteout of a storm. Luckily, I am there and can reassure that we will, at some stage, be able to get out to shops and doctors.

Welcome to Scotland! For an incomer, it is perhaps not the most auspicious start.

Yet they are used to wild weather. A softie southerner might baulk at such conditions. This lot, born and bred in the north, keeps calm and carries on. Which is just as well... as we explore the property, all is not as glossy as it appeared on the brochure.

The timer on the central heating is all to cock.

The ‘nearly new’ cooker we bought off the seller does not work. One oven barely heats up. The other burns fish fingers to a crisp. Yes, we like fish fingers. Especially between two slices of bread.

The telephone rings out, but will not accept incoming calls. BT say they will get the service back on within two days.

Then you need a computer to operate the shower. The chief tries to get it working and receives a soaking for his pains. Finally, the front door handle is so stiff that my mother cannot lift it.

There will be more niggles, I am sure. And these things we should perhaps have noticed pre-sale. Caveat emptor. Let the buyer beware. The previous occupants have also left rubbish in garden and sheds. Which will mean more trips to the recycling.

Yet these are but trifles in the great scheme of things.

At least my father is out of hospital after breaking his leg falling down a flight of stairs.

At least my mother is beginning to warm to her new surroundings. Central heating timer permitting...

My father sits in his chair, nursing his limb and drinking a glass of wine.

My mother is pottering and wondering where to put which picture or plate.

The chief is sorting keys. Putting name tags on various mechanisms.

Even if things don’t work we should at least be able to open the right door or cupboard.

The MacNaughties, meanwhile, are inspecting the house.

Being somewhere new is great fun, but I am watching like a hawk. On guard for any indiscretions by chair legs.

It is time to be grateful. Everyone is OK. Well, sort of.

And time to thank the hard-pressed but vital NHS. All those amazing people who try to keep us alive...

Caveat emptor. Let the buyer beware.

Picture: PA. Fiona’s folks have arrived... but it has not all been plain sailing.