If it wasn’t for the last minute . . .

Nothing would get done.  That’s an old saw that I’ve found to be true. 

I was supposed to leave tomorrow.  This was supposed to be the post where I talked about being almost ready for blast off tomorrow morning.

I had to run some critical errands today, fetching gear I needed and a couple of large items that I agreed to take to Illinois with me as a favor to a member of the vintage trailer forum where I found so much help with my own trailer.  It turned out to be a very warm day, and I hit traffic on the way to where I needed to go, which I should have anticipated but didn’t.  By the time I got back to base I had a raging headache and was soaked in sweat. 

I was starting to panic, feeling pressured about all the things I still had to do in order to be ready to leave.  And then I had a thought.  Why was I feeling pressured?  Nobody is going with me (except Goose and Baby Bear, and of course dear Kenny).  Nobody is expecting me at a particular time.  Everybody waiting for my arrival in parts east understands that I can’t give them an exact day and time of arrival.  And it shouldn’t make much difference to them anyway.  Basically they all know I’ll get there when I get there.

There is the limiting factor of having only so much vacation time available, but fortunately I have a generous store of vacation days and quite possibly the best boss in the world, so if my schedule runs a little long it won’t be the end of the world.  I’ve booked more time than I thought I’d need anyway.

And so I took a pain pill, had a nap, and am now having a cup of coffee and a piece of pie as I leisurely compose this post.

Even if I'm a tad behind schedule, I am almost ready.  The hardest things have been done, a great deal of what I’m taking is already loaded in the truck.  I need to so some organizing, add some things, and do assorted little final tasks, but I’m almost there.  Not there enough to realistically be ready for an early morning departure unless I want to be up all night, but I probably could leave at some point tomorrow.  So I’ve made the decision that I should just chill out and give myself permission to leave late tomorrow or even Monday morning.  It will all work out.

The thing I am most hung up on is clothes packing.  A friend recently gave me his best advice regarding travel:  Take half the clothes and twice the money.  Probably good advice, although somehow I always seem to have more clothes than money.  I get stuck on what clothes to take for some reason.  I get wound up in crazy ideas about how many outfits I’ll need and then when it comes to it I end up wearing the same clothes for days .  You’d think I’d learn.  Sometimes I’ve been able to control myself.  Other times I relapse back to my old ways. 

I ask myself:  What Would Kenny Do?  I can see him peering at the huge pile staged on my bed, the enormous duffle waiting to be stuffed full.  “What ‘dya need all them clothes for?” he asks me, fixing me with a gently mocking look.  He’s right of course.  He told me many times that I didn’t need half the crap I feel compelled to haul along on camping trips. 

I will try to take his silent advice, remember his uncomplicated, unhurried cowboy efficiency, the way he made do with very few possessions.