She's in.

My mother-in-law is moved in. More or less. She is staying put for the next couple of nights, until the curtains are up. It's never comfortable to live in a fishbowl, where the whole world can see. Besides, her phone won't be up for a while.
I hadn't realized just how much she had pared down her furniture. She cut back to only the pieces she is going to use. She has lots of space to get around. It somehow came out looking just right. Now she can putter about and put up her pictures and things, making the apartment really hers.
Sandra and I went over to help her unpack. Most of what she had there were dishes and ceramic nick-knacks. Most of the personal items had gone to her temporary home. She has the whole of the month to move them.
I didn't dare try to put anything away in the kitchen. As much as the bedroom is a place of privacy, the kitchen is a very personal room. Each person works differently in there, according to their needs and abilities. That method and set of routines determines where things should be put. My mother-in-law is set in a very early morning routine, and prefers simple meals. She has back problems, so she can't bend over. She has to keep the things she uses daily at a comfortable level.
Even setting up our kitchen took time and thought. My wife is vertically challenged, as am I, and neither of us is really supposed to be climbing on stools. This means that the top shelves of the cabinets winds up being deep storage.
Mary has the advantage of the spare room, and I think it will turn out to be a nice place for her to sew and work on things, and keep materials from invading her living space. If she feels like it, she can put a spare bed in there, or just close the door and forget the room.
The apartment suits her needs very well. She will be happy there for many years.
It is summed up by the fact that, before she got there to move in, there was a sign put up on the wall outside of her door. "Bless this home." Welcome home, Mom.