PACKING …. AND UNPACKING                              SEPTEMBER 17, 2012


          When I am going on a little trip — whether it be for 3 or 4 days, 2 weeks, or even a day — I have to start planning several days ahead of  time, and I have a Trip List to check off all the items because in years past when all the marbles were in one sack, it never failed , I would forget something or other.  It would absolutely drive me crazy, so that’s when I created the Trip List, and it has been working really well.  Oh, except for one time about 10 years ago when we went over toNewport Beach on a Friday, just play around on Saturday and Sunday, then play in a golf tournament on Monday.  We arrived at the motel in afternoon, and Alba always unloads the car, since she is much better at getting heavy stuff from one place to another.

          She settled down to relax a minute and get her breath, and I was unpacking  stuff and getting it put away, when suddenly I had to break in to her reverie with: “Well, where are MY clothes on the hangers.?”  She  got up, looked in closet, then trudged out to the car, came back into the room, and said: “They’re not in the car.”   I said:  “Oh, (long pause,)  then they must still be hanging on the door knob back in La Quinta, waiting for someone to traipse them out to the car for the journey.”

          PANIC TIME……….!

          We were due to meet some friends for dinner at a very upscale restaurant inFashionIsland, and I would be quite unacceptable if I appeared in my travel duds.  What to do?   What to do?  Well, hop in the car and find a department store atFashionIsland.  We ended up at Bloomingdale’s where I hurriedly purchased a couple of ensembles, and even Alba picked out a few things.   We left the store in our new finery, and went to meet our friends, all in the same beautiful shopping mall.

          Now then, when I return from these trips, I dislike immensely what happens.  Just like this past week since returning from 4 nights spent inSan Juan Capistranoto visit with family and then put in an appearance at the Annual Heritage Barbecue put on by the SJC Historical Society.  I get back home, first thing is to empty out the dirty clothes from the trip and get them into the dirty clothes baskets, then take out a few things I need for Monday night, like tooth brush stuff.   Then, Tuesday I unpacked my laptop, and a few items that I had taken to work on — which I never did work on.  Wednesday, a bit more was put away, Thursday, same.  Friday was a big day — I finally opened up my suitcase and emptied it.  The whole week I was tired out from having spent a few days over in my old stomping grounds.  I’m still tired.  I guess that is bound to happen to old bodies with all the wear and tear they go through.

          I started writing a short Prologue, but ended up all this far.  My memoir coach, Tammy is always saying just keep on writing — so my sub conscience made me do it.  Maybe it was the devil made me do it.

Besides, I shouldn’t be so tired, then I can write a much better rendition of the Barbecue for next weeks exciting “Mondays with Melitas.”





"Thank you for sharing this page" ~ Tammy