I have underestimated the level of complexity. Three young adult offspring leaving to travel abroad on the same day is no trivial whirlwind. But I have foolishly arranged today two appointments to discuss teaching classics and the wind-up two projects at my oral history group.
Well they have known for weeks they would be going away today – surely they will have packed. I try to press on Perran and Carenza waterproof pouchs for valuables on the beach. Also a snorkel and mask. Carenza accepts, but Perran snorts,
“Why would I need that lot?”
“Because you’re going on a beach holiday?”
But there isn’t time to argue – I have to skid out the door.
Next time I nip into the house, I have to search for:-
Nigel’s old moneybelt (Pascoe), a sarong (Carenza), and, worryingly, a European Health Insurance Card (Perran).
I find all of them – I must run an organised house after all! Hooray!
I jump back in my car. Then I realise the twins will be gone by the time I return. I get back out to give a kiss and a prayer for safety.
When I return later, there is just Pascoe.
“I need a padlock for the hostel – do you have a spare one?”
“Nope.” And I am gone again.
Back home after an evening church meeting, I pad about the silent house, trip over a rejected snorkel, and allow myself an exceptional midweek glass of wine.
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