Packing Day

We're packing for a big two-week trip, leaving tomorrow. Spread on the floor is an array of empty suitcases, backpacks, daypacks, and traveling bags, as we decide which ones to use. At various points in the house, like cairns marking a trail, are neat little piles of folded clothing -- mine here, hers there, theirs there -- and clusters of toiletry bottles, vials, and tubes huddling for safety. On the kitchen counter is a pagelong handwritten list, to be checked off as we pack.

Actually we can't get very far until the laundry's done and dried.

I take one medium-sized bag for pretty much any trip of any length. This time I'm taking four tee shirts, two tropical shirts, two pairs of cargo shorts, and, worn on the plane, one pair of jeans. One pair of walking shoes and one pair of water sandals. Four pairs of socks. The tee shirts and socks are made of special high-tech postmodern fibers known only to us experienced outdoor types, moisture-wicking, quick-drying, and crushable to any shape.

We'll be staying at an ecotourist lodge in the southern sector of the great North American continent. We hope to snorkel, swim with wild dolphins, walk in the rain forest canopy, and most of all, lie placidly on the beach.

It will probably also be a vacation from blogging. I'm not bringing a computer, and I doubt if the lodge's computer is available to guests for this purpose. But we'll see.