Leaving, Stuffing, Packing, and Things of that Nature

Writing a blog is similar to eating carrots- You can't figure out why you want to, but there is definitely an attraction with addictive properties.

Tomorrow we are leaving on a four day/three night family reunion/pleasure trip involving free/blessedly cheap lodging and hopefully beautiful weather/bluebonnets in the Glen Rose/Houston/San Antonio area. Consequently, today is a flurry of phone calls, laundry, packing, and confusion on the part of the flakier members of the family, i.e., me. It's only a four day weekend, and it's going to be great fun, I just feel like something has sneaked up on me from behind like a mean dog. A little bit. Tomorrow it will all be good. I love travelling around Texas and enjoying the benefit of Dad's exploratory nature.

Yesterday I was at the Crowes' longer than usual due to transportation details, so aside from reading to Bron, I tried to be of use to Deb in the organizing/packing that's been going on like crazy around their house. Well, not "like" crazy. Crazy. Our family hasn't moved since I was 2, and certainly not overseas, so it's pretty mind boggling to witness a family of 8 doing this. Deb is very courageous.

She sent me to the boy's room, where I took everything they owned, pretty much, and stashed it in separate boxes, baskets, and little crates to be sorted. I felt a bit like the Grinch, in a nice sort of way,...

"the Grinch, very nimbly, stuffed all the bags, one by one up the chimbley." "And the one speck...that he left in the house was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse." !

I don't know how much it actually helped, but at least it looked sort of productive :) I love to separate and organize, though you may not be able to tell by the looks of my closet...Or my packing methods this morning when I was trying to get ready for our trip. It's much easier to pack other people's stuff because you aren't emotionally attached to it.

When I pack, I generally feel the pressure to make all the decisions about everything I will wear, use, read, and do during the time I'm gone. And guess what everyone else on the trip will forget so that I can supply them with it later. So the last few times I've packed for anything, buckling under the pressure, I just threw my stuff in a bag in a shocking 45 minutes (a real record!) and headed recklessly for the door. It's kind of scary, but rather liberating at the same time. So far I haven't left any necessary items, although I have missed one or two good opportunities to mother my friends by neglecting to bring an extra pair of pj pants. In any case, I would rather be at the Crowes' house messing with their stuff or doing the dishes than trying pack my bag for a family reunion.