We are still packing for the trip, and when I say “we” I mean Barb.
Here’s how I pack.
Set of clothes – socks, underwear, shirt, pants, sweater.
I wear one set of clothes, since the alternative is not pretty.
One set goes in my carryon in case all our luggage is lost. One set goes in my suitcase, one set goes in Barb’s suitcase, again in case something should get lost.
Toiletries kit and chargers in my carry on.
Wear one set of shoes (wearing two is uncomfortable, I’ve tried). Wear the goretex ones because even though they are hotter to wear I hate having wet feet. One set of regular shoes in each suitcase. One set of sandals in carryon.
Wear a light, soft wind breaker with room for a sweater underneath. Put skookum raincoat in carryon. One heavier windbreaker in one of the suitcases.
Wear a hat, put another in carryon.
And I am done. Easy-peasey something, something rhyming, whatever.
Barbara.
Get out all the clothes, including winter. Try all the clothes on.
Place most of the clothes on bed. Start narrowing down the clothes to wear. Over the course of several days compare the pile of clothes to size of the suitcase. Sigh. Repeat.
Finally remove enough clothes that remainder just fits in the suitcase.
Forget that shoes haven’t been added to the suitcase yet.
Start over but this time put shoes on the bed and try to narrow them down as well. Give it up as a bad job and get a larger suitcase.
Me: Why are you crying.
Barb: I hate leaving the children behind when we travel. I miss them.
Me: One lives in Calgary, one in Vancouver, don’t you miss them all the time?
Barb: Not those children, these (points to the shoes).
Me:
Barb: At least I know I can adopt more children while we are gone.
Me: You’re not adopting them you’re buying them.
Barb: Administration fees to ensure they are going to a good home.
I should mention that I need to show my clothes to Barb so that she can makes sure the colours allow me to “have enough clothes to mix and match.”
I should also mention that the mixing and matching occurs every morning just before leaving the AirBnB and goes something like this.
Barb: Are you ready to go?
Me: I’ve been ready for ages.
Barb: Is that what you’re wearing.
Me: (pause). Noooooo?
Barb: Why don’t you wear that other nice shirt, the blue one.
Me: But I’m happy with what I’m wearing.
Barb: But I have to walk beside you in public.
Barb is an eternal optimist. I know that because of this conversation, each night before bed.
Me: What should I wear tomorrow?
Barb: Wear whatever you want, I’m sure it’ll be fine.
It’s never fine, but she keeps hoping.
Ciao for now.