London Eye

Posted by on Apr 8, 2007 in My Children, Spirit | 0 comments

My daughter, the international traveler, has an interesting and effective technique for packing her bags. An hour or so before she is scheduled to leave, she upends the contents of her dirty clothes basket into her suitcase, throws in the shoes lying around on the floor, drops in her makeup bag, and gets someone to help her sit on it so it will zip. She has resisted all my efforts to help her organize the effort on her return trips, so the only change I have caused is to make sure all the clothing she takes out of my house is clean. As you might imagine, this drives an over organized planner like myself slightly insane. I have learned to keep my mouth shut mostly, but it makes no difference, she knows what I’m thinking by the body language. She has watched me start getting ready for trips months ahead with amusement, and she likes going on trips with me because I arrive with all the things she forgot. We have learned to adapt to our wildly divergent personalities very well because she likes having shampoo and toothpaste available and I like to feel needed and slightly smug.

Today I’m making the final preparations to go and visit her in London, a process I started 5 months ago. My suitcase has been packed for 2 weeks, but today I am going to unpack and reorganize it one last time before we leave for Dulles at 1:30. I am resisting the urge to add 6 additional outfits “just in case”, like I did last time I lugged two giant bags through the tube, double deck bus, and the final walk to her house. It has been a painful process for me to sort through my wardrobe and eliminate all but the essential. Good news is all my clothing is new, because the old stuff has been shuffled off to other homes since I lost the 95 pounds. I made a decision last month that I would leave my brown outfits at home, eliminating the need for brown shoes, coats and handbags. Men among you may skip ahead to the next paragraph if you haven’t already. I know how you pack and it’s not a work of art. My suitcase will be a masterpiece if it is opened in customs, drawing ooohs and ahaas from the assembled airport security agents. They will take one look and know that no one so organized could ever allow the chaos of drug smuggling into their life. On the other hand, they will have no fears about rummaging through the bag like they might with my girl’s luggage, so I’m not sure if my theory will work.

If all goes well I will be luxuriating in the Sanctuary Spa in Covent Gardens by this time tomorrow. My girl is taking me there right from the airport for a delightful day of blissful massage, swimming, and pampering. She had tickets for the London Eye for Friday, which has me a bit apprehensive, but I am determined to do it all fearlessly. We will do the rounds of comedy shows on Friday and Saturday night and then head north to Shipley on Sunday to visit the Doody’s. From there it’s on to Edinburgh on Tuesday for a few days tour, then we will sleep exhausted on the night train back to London. I return on Thursday, May 3 and have a day to detox before I have to work on Saturday. So, more than you wanted to know about my trip to UK, but you’re not free yet. I will be posting occasionally from over the pond, keeping you all apprised of my middle age daring do. My boss offered bail money when he found out my husband was staying at home this trip. You would think he of all people would know how good I am at talking my way out of trouble.

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