Tag Archives: vacation

Did you pack the…of course not!

I am getting ready to take off for an extended vacation in the next week or so, and therefore it has become my painful duty to do the one thing I hate the most in the world…plan ahead.

I have never in my life gone on one single trip where I was not encumbered by the necessity of either doing without whatever I forgot, or running out to frantically try to replace it. The number of drugstores in strange cities where I have been seen, running down the aisles, searching frantically for pantyhose, a headache remedy or some sort of makeshift gift would be a staggering figure.

This last weekend may illustrate my problems with remembering. We were on a trip to the Twin Cities, but we were going to an unfamiliar area. We had all kinds of maps and instructions, but we decided we should take the GPS anyway. Roy gathered the chargers, the stand, etc. and put them in the car. Halfway to Minneapolis, he turned to me and said, “Did you pack the GPS in the trunk?”

“GPS?” was my vague response.

We made it where we were going, but it was touchy. It’s the same every time. It’s not because we are more than ordinarily forgetful; no, our problem is much more elementary: I do everything last minute, including packing. It doesn’t matter how much warning I’ve had, I still wait until the very last minute and then I try to remember everything.

Sometimes I make a list in advance. This is extremely helpful. I make the list, promptly lose it and so my last-minute packing leaves something out. This has resulted in my wearing sneakers to a wedding, using my fingers to comb my hair and always and inevitably forgetting my deodorant!

The upcoming vacation (and it’s coming fast) will include several days of camping before an air trip to New York and some Broadway plays. That means I must remember camping equipment, food, and dress clothes…all in the same trip. I just hope I don’t show up at a Broadway theater in my walking sweat-suit!

I have a daughter who likes to be meticulously organized. I maintain that someone switched her at birth because she cannot be mine. She makes lists (and hangs on to them), plans her events down to the last detail and is always months ahead of time in her arrangements. I wish I was like that, but I am not.

So, on the last day before I leave for vacation I will be frantically throwing fry pans, eggs and bacon, dress theater jackets and my favorite ratty old pajamas in the suitcase and it won’t be until I’m well on the road that I will remember that I should have brought the coffee and that I don’t know if my dress shoes are in the suitcase or not!My husband has been asking me not-so-subtle questions all week like, “Do you have all the laundry done that you need?” (I have been known to throw dirty clothes in the suitcase and rinse them out in a motel sink). Or, “Say, dear, have you brought up the suitcases yet? You know, so we can get started packing?” (That’s so silly, because frequently I will not have unpacked from a previous trip, so when I get the suitcase, I find not so fresh clothes in it or discover that THIS is where my spare toothbrush went.)


I’ll get around to packing for this trip, but I know without a doubt that my husband is going to turn to me when we are in the car, much too late to turn around and go back, and say, “Oh, by the way, did you pack…oh, never mind, we’ll have to get along without it!” Happy vacationing, everyone!

 

 

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Vacation – not exactly what I wanted…

I’ve always loved the Vacation series of movies with Chevy Chase. Most especially do I love the first one, with the ever-optimistic Clark Griswold  taking his family in a new car through a series of catastrophic vacation blunders until in the end, he finally snaps and his car is a wreck.

I travel a great deal with my husband, but it is a sad fact that I could very easily be the female version of poor old Clark. I have gone through a series of mis-adventures over the years, but by far the worst was a car trip through the southwest where we fixed the car at every stop and never did get everything running smoothly. We finally landed in a very small town in Arizona, and they managed to at least get it working so it didn’t die on the road. I, however, declared that Arizona would be colder than the South Pole in winter before I ever showed up there again. I should have stuck to that declaration. This year, somehow, Roy talked me into vacationing in the southwest. That’s right, folks; Arizona—in June!

I knew we were in trouble before we had even headed south. The night before we left, there was a terrific rainstorm. It washed out the bridge we were to take south. This might have been a sign from God that we ignored. No problem though, we just drove miles out of our way through interesting places like the town of Bob. Interesting  fact—the town of Bob has a population of 11…one of them must be named Bob, right?

We finally made it to Denver after mistaking a military base for a bathroom break. The nice men at the gates with guns explained that we were wrong.  In Denver, we spent the night listening to a hail storm outside. In the morning, our very new car was sporting any number of hail dings and looked a little like a car with the measles.

However, it was vacation; we needed to carry on. Outside Durango, we observed a sign which said, “Watch for migrating wildlife.” I gave a laugh, “Now there’s an interesting sign. I wonder where they’re….” At that moment, we bagged the “migrating wildlife” with a 2013 Fusion. The deer came out of nowhere at top speed, hit the side of our car breaking the mirror and the headlight and pushing in the side front panel until we couldn’t open the driver’s door.

You should have seen the other guy...

You should have seen the other guy…

With the use of a mechanic’s jack and some sturdy tape, the car was again made drivable, but by now it looked a lot like Chevy Chase’s station wagon in Vacation. All we had missing was the wheels turning in!

We took that sad car all through the vacation with people giving it double takes all over the place. We traveled to Silverton, Colorado, where we were in a snow and sleet storm. We took it to the Grand Canyon where the fog was so thick, we couldn’t see anything but fog. And then we took it to Las Vegas, where the temperatures were a heart-stopping, knee-buckling 106 degrees! And through it all, the bent up, hail-dinged, mirror-cracked, taped-up light car seemed to keep on going.

The

The “view” at the Grand Canyon

The final straw came when we got back to Denver. We parked the car for the night on the street as we were staying with my daughter. Unfortunately, we parked it in an area meant for residents of the housing property. The following morning, the car was gone. I’m sure someone took a look at that banged up mess and supposed someone abandoned it there. We had to go 20 miles away to the tow company and pay $250 to get that semi-wreck back.

Roy swears that when he got in the car, the steering wheel grabbed him by the throat and the car snarled, “What the heck, Roy? Next year, take the other car!”

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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