G'Ma Hits the Road - Toto waits

G'Ma hits the road again - before dawn cracks on Friday morning. Hate those pre-dawn fumbles for lights; showers in an eerily quiet world; weighty questions along the lines of to shave or not to shave the legs.

I'm packed, pretty much organised too for my trip to Thailand. Son, daughter-in-law, the adorable Toto, Maxine, and brother - affectionately known as Rocket who is due to launch into this world any day now - have been in Bangkok for over a month, choosing to give birth there rather than in Ethiopia which has a very poor record on maternal health care and delivery.

I'm flying on AA miles and they have booked me on JAL - minor tizzy yesterday when a friend e-mailed to say "Hey - got contingency plans? JAL filing Chapter 11 this week!" Let the chips fall is my approach to these possible snafus to my well oiled plans.

Dog is already in a funk having noted dufflebag in den half-packed. He's set up camp next to it. What second-sense these animals have. I've only got to pull a particular weekend bag from the shelf and he turns inside out with joy because that bag signals "go to the cabin". This chunky duffle signals " she's going on holiday and I don't like it". He'll be staying with daughter-in-law's folks - and "batching" it - a life full of tummy rubs, treats and very leisurely walks as Jim is recovering from hip replacement surgery.

House demands certain "what, you're leaving me" procedures like filling the fountain, emptying fridge, stopping mail and so on. I have everything in the garden on carefully controlled drip systems so the only two items requiring care are indoor plants and a dear friend has offered to do the weekly watering. I have to take evasive action against a pack rat invasion. That means opening the hoods of the cars and strewing fabric softener sheets around the garage. Took a tip last year from someone who said put a string of Christmas lights under the cars - pack rats hate light! Did that and near burned the house down - fortunately my daughter came by, smelled "something" , opened the garage and discovered the string of lights smouldering under a car. Disaster averted and lesson learned.

I'm an easy traveller. No angst, no prima donna routine and no queue jumping. My carry-on bag is sub-regulation size. On long-haul flights I stay clear of alcohol except for a glass of wine with lunch or dinner; get up and move every hour or so (if I don't the knees seize up!) and for sipping on ask for a cup of hot water with a slice of lemon in it - soothing and far nicer than the stewed tea or coffee that makes the rounds. Always carry a couple of small apples (I have incredibly, crisp, tasty ones grown locally and picked up at St. Philip's Farmers' Market on Sunday), and I buy the kind of book I wouldn't be caught reading at home - yep, cheap, throwaway smut novels of the "best seller bodice ripper" gendre. True story - about five years ago was on a trans Atlantic flight and was reading Darwin's Origin of the Species". Seat mate - an intense, little tiny man with huge ego and foul breath proceeded to harass me the entire flight about evolution being a hoax! Smut from then on!

Thanks to the cyber age all that hassle about paying bills, keeping in touch is taken care of. My life is in my Mac. I'll keep in touch while away - heck, you won't even know I'm gone.
Gerry