The suitcase is on the bed and has been for weeks.
I’m traveling again, which means I have to pack. Therein lies the problem. For as much as I have trekked this wonderful world of ours, I have yet to figure it out. How to pack that is. Which means smart. Which means light. Only the pieces needed and in a carry-on, preferably. You know airlines and luggage!
If you’ve ever traveled with me or seen my closet, you can appreciate my predicament. Ten days in Europe in 19.0 x 13.25 x 7.5 inches, give or take a few here and there.
Bonne chance, Michelle!
Did I say Rick Steves videos have been playing tirelessly at the parsonage? All about packing. What to take and not. And why. I slip in one more pair of shoes than he recommends. And my Canon.
Darn that Rick Steves! Who made him travel king?
Business or pleasure, each time a trip arises, the dual resumes. What’s with the oversized suitcase? More than room for a Tide stick or rain poncho, I know my demon. My nemesis. Just how many outfits are needed and who cares anyway? What’s really up?
Only days ago, this pastor kept company with a family in the wake of death. Loving husband, father, grandfather, son-in-law, father-in-law, friend. He left this world much too soon. In my venue, from one communion Sunday to the next.
He was a big man. A giant in every way. Family and friends will confirm it.
Wherever he traveled, he left a wide wake.
For his house that love built and for all he gained by skill and hard work, he parted this world with his soul, ‘seulement.’
It was enough. All he needed.
There’s a lesson here. And I’m all student these days.
Here in the guest bedroom, I remove a couple outfits from my luggage.
I feel lighter.