I know it's strange, but I just couldn't resist getting further into developing the pocket itinerary for the later trip.
Let's blame it on the fact that my Internet was out for a good part of the day, even though my system and the company's system and everyone else's system said "green." Even though nothing was going through. That just disorients me for the rest of the day.
Or -- the excuse that it's easier to get the format set up now while the wherefores and where hows are fresh in my mind from the just-completed go-around. Wouldn't want to lose my place after being away at quilt camp.
What else can you do when your Internet is out? Shred documents. Someone convinced me I don't have to keep every check I ever wrote or bank statement I ever received. Just don't try to convince me that I don't need to keep eons worth of calendars.
Checked the refrigerator. Threw over-aged vegetables and leftovers on the compost pile. Do you know there are people who blog about composting? I mainly think of throwing the stuff on the compost pile as returning it to nature instead of over-burdening the sewer system by grinding it.
I moved some of those Costco supplies from a stack in the garage to cupboards in the house. You know, a dozen boxes of Kleenex and umpty-ump rolls of toilet paper.
This revealed -- in the garage -- a great big blue plastic container. Could it possibly be the box of pending quilt camp projects I thought I had to go to the storage shed (mini storage) for? I looked on its end and there was a big #1, its storage shed inventory number. I put two projects I'd been working on into the box, along with another UFO (un-finished object) already in there with all its necessary components.
While I avoided going out in the car, that delayed going to buy bags to put out my trash. I don't generate all that much trash, since I recycle a lot and throw tidbits on the compost pile, so I don't need regular trash service. Sometimes I accumulate and combine with Brother-in-law to take a truckload to the dump, but more often I just buy bags from the trash company that can be left at curbside.
But you can't put them out the night before or animals rip into them. Everything must be poised, staged, ready to be shuttled out at the crack of dawn Wednesday morning. This week is the week.
Tuesday -- that's the day, or evening, that I go down the hill to French class -- if it doesn't snow -- and, this time, to Staples with the (ta-da) completed pocket itinerary for my first trip to be spiral bound.
I found -- came across -- the gift that my late daughter-in-law had intended for me for Christmas. She'd wrapped gifts for the family just before she died. She was Jehovah's Witness and did not celebrate Christmas, but she'd really wanted to do this with all of her husband's (my son's) family this time. We had her gifts here, at my house where we gathered, but not the heart to open them.
When we cleaned up all the Christmas wrappings I couldn't find the small package I'd seen for me. I searched all the discarded wrappings, even those crunched in the compactor with coffee grounds, but no luck.
Today it turned up, fulfilling my conviction that lost items will turn up at their convenience, not mine, or when the gremlins bring them back. It's a circular golden bracelet with "mother" in several languages inscribed around it. It was a very sweet thought.
I almost forgot to walk, so went out late-ish and my step count is the highest I've had since I started measuring for this round of pre-travel fitness push.
No photos to show for it. I pretty much took house sign pictures. Maybe they'll be a future collage.
See you tomorrow.