I am notoriously a terrible packer. Whenever we go on a trip Jeff is the logistics guy. Especially with gear. If it were left to me we would arrive on a ski vacation without skis, a beach vacation without bathing suits, or a camping trip without matches. I seriously suck at packing. I usually make sure I have seventeen different options just in case I am invited to dinner with the queen, and then forget to bring pants. I am so worried about being cold (I hate being cold), that I end up wearing long sleeve shirts and wool socks in tropical climates. So, the prospect of packing for almost five months away has been a daunting task for me. My solution: lists.
I have been mentally making lists for months. I’ve tracked weather patterns in Urubamba. I’ve paid heed to the fact that the rainy season is lasting a little bit longer this year. I’ve accounted for the fact that we will be at the beach, in the Sacred Valley, playing tennis, hiking, going to the tropical (hot!) jungle, trekking to 14,400 feet with the medical team (yikes!), having the occasional social gathering, and sleeping in 40 degree weather with no heat.
My house has been a total disaster these last few days. Well, if you know me you know that my house is usually a mild disaster, but it has gotten out of control. We were going to have some neighbors over for dinner and thank god for the venue change. Our dining room table is covered with piles of clothes, stacks of “maybe brings,” random books that I can’t live without, and a file I am calling the “important papers” file. Not to mention the three blood pressure cuffs, the otoscope, the pulse oximeter, and a bag full of AAA batteries. Thankfully I am getting closer to finishing. There is always that one more thing that needs to be washed. The favorite t-shirt that someone can’t stop wearing. The last bike ride sweating up those clothes. The sweatshirt that I realize smells like it hasn’t ever been washed. But check this out. Four suitcases for the four of us who are leaving Tuesday. And one of them still has room for bike helmets and more books!
In case you are worried about what I am going to wear if invited to dinner with the queen, refer to my Retail Therapy post. The PrAna dress will probably come though in a pinch.