Loose Ends

"That means I can pack as much as I want," I said under my breath. What bad timing for my other half to have perfect hearing.

"I have to be able to see out the back," he said. I nodded, knowing that seeing out the back is not my problem. It's his.

He has done the driving ever since I took over on the Pennsylvania Turnpike while he slept. The kids were in the back seat. I pulled into the left lane to pass, and traffic piled up. The lanes were narrow, and the left lane kept getting faster and faster until I saw those flashing lights in the rearview mirror.

As soon as the police officer got to my window, I blurted out, "I'm so glad you pulled me over. I couldn't get out of the left lane and didn't want to go that fast." My hands were shaking, and my other half was trying to wake up. I didn't get a ticket - just a warning.

My other half still can't believe I said that. I guess the officer couldn't either. But I haven't driven on that road since then.

This time, we're traveling north in new territory, and he's driving. So, I need to be prepared for hot or cold weather, or warm days and cool nights. "What do I wear to a picnic?" I asked my wise but totally disinterested other half. "Do I plan for hot or cold? Pants or shorts?"

"I'm going out to mow the lawn," he said as the back door closed. So I spent the rest of the afternoon in my closet making decisions.

I made three piles: "what if," "for sure" and "remote possibility." The "what if" pile covered rain and hiking clothes and a dressy outfit. I chose pants with a jacket for an out to dinner thing in case it gets cold, and then threw in a raincoat with a hood, hiking shoes and jeans. I added my shopping shoes, my canvas purse that's big enough to hold a sleeping bag and a sweater.

"For sure" was easy. We are going to be gone for six days, so six pairs of pants or capris with shirts and jackets to go with them and two pairs of sandals. And a pair of shorts in case it gets hot. But, if it is cold, then sandals won't do. So I picked out three pairs of shoes to go with the six outfits. And socks.

The "remote possibility" decisions have to do with weather. I threw in a small blanket, an extra pair of jeans and a lined jacket. Then added another pair of shorts.

On the side of the bed I put things like books, magazines, camera, my cross-stitch and CDs for the car.

My other half took one look and zeroed in on the cross-stitch. "You haven't done any since the kids were in middle school," he challenged. So I moved it to the "for sure" pile.