Packing

Well, it’s happened, I have attracted a critic. Nobby would like to point out that my time in Paris last week was actually in 2 separate trips; he took a day off work to take me to the Musee D’Orsay and for a fab lunch. Then I happened to get the chance to go again the following day with Peony, whose mother-in-law has taken her children to the south of France for a fortnight (now that’s a mother-in-law you want to stay on the right side of). I have told him I reserve artistic licence on my Blog to make my life and me sound more windswept and interesting but I think he was still miffed, hence this hurried, yet lovingly meant, addendum. Thanks, Babe, for a lovely day, I’m glad we’ve ticked another sight off the list after only 3 years teetering on the edge of Paris! And thanks too Peony for the shopping trip, of course.

Today I have been trying to tackle the packing for our holiday in the UK which starts on Friday. And failing miserably of course. I have at least dragged out the suitcase and started wading through all the washing but I just can’t get motivated. I have an amazing checklist with little tick-boxes and everything. It even has sections for winter or summer holidays and I have recently removed all the redundant stuff such as pushchair, kiddy-cups and teddy bears and added all the new essentials like portable DVD player, I-Pod and Action Man. It should all be so easy but I know I’ll just be leaving it to the last minute as usual and panicking as we drive down the road on Friday morning that we’ve left something behind. (Or rather I’ve left something behind. That’s the trouble with the list, it’s only as good as the person who wrote it and if you don’t specifically write down to pack Nobby’s sunglasses then they are going to get forgotten and it will be all my fault…)

I was just the same in the run up to exams when I was young. I had the most beautiful revision timetables you ever saw - colour coded, neatly printed, every available hour suitably allocated to give the optimum study-time to each subject. Did I ever follow it? Well of course not. I procrastinated and arranged my books and papers in order and sharpened my pencils but getting down to serious study was too much like accepting I was about to be tested and someone finding out I really wasn’t as clever I wanted people to think. It’s a miracle I ever made it through any exams with the matchsticks holding my eyes open from the sleepless nights of cramming beforehand.

So here we are several (!) years later and I am doing the self-same thing over the holiday packing. Poppet has tried to encourage me by doing her own. She disappeared into her room for about half an hour this morning and came out laden down with 4 rucksacks bulging at the seams and with a Barbie doll in every pocket. I am under strict instructions not to repack it all into the main suitcase as she knows where everything is now and she’s ready as far as she’s concerned. Pickle seems to bend more toward my way of tackling the issue. He made a bit of effort this morning, opening his own blinds and getting himself dressed, until it came to the socks which were a little bit tricky at which point he threw the towel in and turned to Sonic and Super Mario for comfort. Personally I found it was very important to get another few centimetres of my knitting done today so the suitcase is still there, completely empty but hemmed in by Barbies and girly clothes.
Well, there’s always tomorrow.