Packin' - April 21, 2018
If you listen carefully, you can probably hear the groaning and face-palming from where you are… Yes, Laur and I have started packing for our return flight to Canada. But this year, I added a little something special. “Laur, let’s de-junk a little while we pack.”
If you know us at all, you’ll know that Laur cannot let go of stuff, and I cannot hold onto anything. (This is why Laur always carries our plane tickets and passports when we travel. I have been known to drop them…)
I suggested we start in our laundry room / workshop / pantry / storage room. It is the size of a double seater outhouse, so you know that we are already pressed for space. “Laur, do we really need all these empty boxes?”
There is a back story here. Laur used to run a small Northern Ontario literary press. He had to assemble and mail hundreds of books on a regular basis, so having a multitude of boxes of every size was like Scrooge McDuck’s bank to him. He initially resisted but secretly hoped if he caved on that, I would give him some leeway on his stock of backpacks. He was wrong.
“Laurie, you have four hiking backpacks. You can only carry one at any one time…”
“But Jannie, this one is a back-up pack, and this one is for shorter hikes, and this one is in case I ever want to do an overnight hike, and this Laurentian University one has all kinds of great pockets.”
“Laurie, it also has a hole in the bottom of it.”
“Somebody might be able to use it.”
“By the time we are ready to part with something, my sweets, NOBODY will WANT to use it.”
He gave up on the holey one – but not before appealing to my love of Sudbury and the memories which the backpack offered…
(Laur offered to take the garbage bag of boxes and the backpack to the dumpster. I won’t be surprised if what he really did was hide it under our trailer. Hey, the packrats will actually use the backpack – likely to store chewed up wires from our Caddie.)
Next, our wardrobe – such as it is.
“Laur, you have four hiking shirts and four hiking pants. You can only wear one at any one time and I do a laundry every two days.” Laur was not even willing to talk about his shirts. A battle for next year. But he felt he had to defend the honor of his hiking pants.
“This one is for cold hikes, this one for kind-of cold hike, this one for kind-of hot hikes, and this one for hot hikes.” (It has zip-off legs though he will never take them off because neither of us would be able to get them back off again.)
I zeroed in on his kind-of hot hiking pants. “Laurie, these have a massive rip in the behind!”
“I know Jannie, but that can be repaired.”
“Laurie, they’ve been repaired once. You paid $3 for them, the repair cost $5. A repair this size is going to be at least $10!”
Laur gave me his best seven-year-old-Emma sad-eyed look. “But Jannie, I really like them…” I caved (because of Emma.)
*****
Do I have any weird packing and cluttering tendencies? Absolutely! And I tell Laur he is always welcome to write stories about my craziness, and he responds that there aren’t enough hours in the day. Suffice it to say, the moaning and face-palming is about to start when it’s time to catch our cab to the airport.
I came to AZ with a large suitcase and a computer and a backpack. I am returning with an even larger suitcase and my computer and backpack AND another suitcase. (Thank you LV for your kind donation.) Thank heavens Southwest permits two suitcases at no charge – though they might balk at the weight of my biggest one.
“OK, Jannie, you tossed out a bunch of clothes and we’re not bringing 20 pounds of dark chocolate-covered pecan clusters this time.” (Yes, I brought back 20 pounds of candy in January – but they were gifts.) “What could you possibly need to bring back this time?”
Where do I begin? There are books for our grandkids and grandnephews and grandniece. There are extra pairs of new running shoes because … because we don’t have running shoes in Canada? I bought up on some cool stationery on amazon.com because it’s cheaper in the US – unless you take into account the exchange rate.
Then there is a few pounds of breakfast food – coffee, bran buds, craisins, soya milk, and flax seed – in case we get iced in at Chicago and have to stay overnight. “Jannie, I expect they’ll have a restaurant that serves breakfast!” “But Laurie, not MY kind of breakfast.” Truth be told, I’d bring our next day’s lunch too, but the bread and bananas would get squished and we can’t take peanut butter and raw veggies across the border.
Soon as we unpack in Canada, all of this will be a distant memory. Until it’s time to return to AZ in November and I say. “Laur, let’s de-junk a little while we pack...”
If you know us at all, you’ll know that Laur cannot let go of stuff, and I cannot hold onto anything. (This is why Laur always carries our plane tickets and passports when we travel. I have been known to drop them…)
I suggested we start in our laundry room / workshop / pantry / storage room. It is the size of a double seater outhouse, so you know that we are already pressed for space. “Laur, do we really need all these empty boxes?”
There is a back story here. Laur used to run a small Northern Ontario literary press. He had to assemble and mail hundreds of books on a regular basis, so having a multitude of boxes of every size was like Scrooge McDuck’s bank to him. He initially resisted but secretly hoped if he caved on that, I would give him some leeway on his stock of backpacks. He was wrong.
“Laurie, you have four hiking backpacks. You can only carry one at any one time…”
“But Jannie, this one is a back-up pack, and this one is for shorter hikes, and this one is in case I ever want to do an overnight hike, and this Laurentian University one has all kinds of great pockets.”
“Laurie, it also has a hole in the bottom of it.”
“Somebody might be able to use it.”
“By the time we are ready to part with something, my sweets, NOBODY will WANT to use it.”
He gave up on the holey one – but not before appealing to my love of Sudbury and the memories which the backpack offered…
(Laur offered to take the garbage bag of boxes and the backpack to the dumpster. I won’t be surprised if what he really did was hide it under our trailer. Hey, the packrats will actually use the backpack – likely to store chewed up wires from our Caddie.)
Next, our wardrobe – such as it is.
“Laur, you have four hiking shirts and four hiking pants. You can only wear one at any one time and I do a laundry every two days.” Laur was not even willing to talk about his shirts. A battle for next year. But he felt he had to defend the honor of his hiking pants.
“This one is for cold hikes, this one for kind-of cold hike, this one for kind-of hot hikes, and this one for hot hikes.” (It has zip-off legs though he will never take them off because neither of us would be able to get them back off again.)
I zeroed in on his kind-of hot hiking pants. “Laurie, these have a massive rip in the behind!”
“I know Jannie, but that can be repaired.”
“Laurie, they’ve been repaired once. You paid $3 for them, the repair cost $5. A repair this size is going to be at least $10!”
Laur gave me his best seven-year-old-Emma sad-eyed look. “But Jannie, I really like them…” I caved (because of Emma.)
*****
Do I have any weird packing and cluttering tendencies? Absolutely! And I tell Laur he is always welcome to write stories about my craziness, and he responds that there aren’t enough hours in the day. Suffice it to say, the moaning and face-palming is about to start when it’s time to catch our cab to the airport.
I came to AZ with a large suitcase and a computer and a backpack. I am returning with an even larger suitcase and my computer and backpack AND another suitcase. (Thank you LV for your kind donation.) Thank heavens Southwest permits two suitcases at no charge – though they might balk at the weight of my biggest one.
“OK, Jannie, you tossed out a bunch of clothes and we’re not bringing 20 pounds of dark chocolate-covered pecan clusters this time.” (Yes, I brought back 20 pounds of candy in January – but they were gifts.) “What could you possibly need to bring back this time?”
Where do I begin? There are books for our grandkids and grandnephews and grandniece. There are extra pairs of new running shoes because … because we don’t have running shoes in Canada? I bought up on some cool stationery on amazon.com because it’s cheaper in the US – unless you take into account the exchange rate.
Then there is a few pounds of breakfast food – coffee, bran buds, craisins, soya milk, and flax seed – in case we get iced in at Chicago and have to stay overnight. “Jannie, I expect they’ll have a restaurant that serves breakfast!” “But Laurie, not MY kind of breakfast.” Truth be told, I’d bring our next day’s lunch too, but the bread and bananas would get squished and we can’t take peanut butter and raw veggies across the border.
Soon as we unpack in Canada, all of this will be a distant memory. Until it’s time to return to AZ in November and I say. “Laur, let’s de-junk a little while we pack...”