Getting ready for the trip now occupies me daily. I have not yet laid everything we’re taking on the guest room bed, but I might as well have. In my mind that bed is loaded with hats, umbrellas, shorts, bathsuits, tops, boat shoes, sun block, wind breakers, underwear, sweat shirts, some of which I will have to eliminate. We really must have carry on for the first leg of the trip, as I explained in a previous blog. But there is another problem.
For my birthday Tom gave me a collapsible walking stick that coverts to a single leg camera pod, a weapon-like item the airlines might now allow me to carry on. My new camera boasts a HUGE telescoping lens, the kind that throws a pelican in the Yucatan into focus here in Massachusetts. If I am anywhere near the bird, say 200 feet away,
the view finder slips from rock outcropping to blue sky to aqua ocean so fast, I get seasick standing on the beach. So, although I might sway a teensy bit with the unipod, I will capture that pelican until, of course, it takes off. Then I ram that unipod leg into Tom’s head as I swing the camera that is screwed into the unipod up to capture the shot. I hope someone will have a video of my efforts, if only for purpose of defending myself in court.
This morning I looked at my pile of yoga clothes assembled in the bathroom so I don’t wake Tom when I go off to class early in the morning. That pile of one pair of pants, a tank top, a tee shirt, a thin fleece, a pair of socks, my watch and my shoes would be about all I could fit into the backpack I intend to carry. Last time we traveled (to India), I managed to put most of my clothes into Tom’s significantly larger pack; we checked his…but this time I have to be more responsible. Then I saw this wonderful ad on TV for a deflatable plastic case that you put a vacuum cleaner hose into and suck all the air out of whatever you’re packing. There is a problem: we have central vacuum and I don’t want to use plastic bags. I better explore how to extricate clothes from the vacuum container in the cellar before I try it on Tom’s pack.
We just took a lovely walk around our three mile block, it was a $.30 day, I collected six old beer cans by the side of the road. The air was soft, the sun warm. Probably close to 50 degrees and I started to think how I would miss the natural change in the countryside…and who would steal all my cans? Would it snow enough to cover the cans? $.30 a day can add up. Or would cars and snowplows grind them into flat, non-refundable metal lumps? I love nature.