A reader said to load some photos on Picasa
and see if they could load onto Blogger any easier for me....
and this is working, so far.
A pain because it is yet another step I had to take to post a photo, but for now I will use it, I guess.
But, that is not what this post is about.
It is about:
OPERATION: "GOT HATTS" (Getting Out of Town, Hauling Ass To Tropical Sands)
You see, it all starts every spring, when I take many of my nature photography prints and the Hubs makes homemade lovely birch bark frames for them and we start selling at craft fairs.
Like this:
And we make homemade stone jewelry too.
Then, after all the spring, autumn and the last Christmas craft fairs,(which is hours and hours of hard labor, but we love it!) we gather up any profits made and pool the money together and plan a tropical winter getaway with the money made from our fruits of labor.
Thus begins the" Operation: Got Hatts".....
But it isn't a simple process.
Oh. No.
PHASE ONE OF COMMANDO OPERATION: Got Hatts:
My job:
1. Look for hours and hours at vacation deals on line.
2. Call Hubby over to computer to ask him what he thinks of said deals, one by one.
3. Hubby states (one by one): "whatever you want honey, you plan it, I am fine wherever you pick as long as it is warm".
4. Look for hours and hours more and days and days more until I finally see one I think is the "best deal". Second guess myself at least five times and continue the search until I finally settle on ONE.
5. Call Hubby over to computer one last time for final confirmation on price, place, dates. He agrees.
6. Every so many days after reservations are made and paid for, Hubby asks me: "When do we go again? Where are we going again?" at least 10 times.
7. Up to the final few days before departure, (no matter how many months/days before I book it) Hubby will act surprised as I begin Phase Two of the Operation and states: "I didn't realize we were going then." (and repeats #9) (And, just in case you were wondering, he does not have dementia or Alzheimers)...
8. Go on line to make hotel reservations for where we fly from to go to Mexico...again look for hours and hours for "the best park and fly deal". Call Hubby to computer to double check and he says: "whatever you want honey, you plan it, I am fine wherever you pick".
PHASE TWO:
My job:. Packing process begins approximately two weeks before departure. This part is NOT pretty. (Those without strong stomachs may wish to not read the next part). Those of you that already read this on Facebook, I apologize!:
1. Take out every short-sleeved outfit and dress in closet and place them on bed.
2. Take out every lightweight skirt I own and place them on bed.
3. Take out every swimsuit and coverup I own and place them on the now-mounded bed.
4. Take out every pair of sandals I own, try them all on, declaire they are not cute enough or fit comfortably enough, but pile them anyway by said-bed.
5. Try on said-bed clothes. Sigh.
6. Go shopping for new tropical vacation clothes and shoes.
7. Come home without much, and re-try everything on on said-bed and floor.
8. Put half of the stuff back in closets.
9. Take out every piece of jewelry I own to match chosen clothes (this takes an entire day)
10. Remembers I have to buy new underwear in case someone in customs searches suitcase, rush out to buy some.
11. Remember I have to buy new makeup to match expected tan, rush out to buy some. (Along with travel size deoderant, shampoo, etc.)
12. Finally squishes everything in suitcase and barely gets it shut.
How Hubby packs:
1. Finds old speedos from 1980's, asks if he can put them in my suitcase, along with 2 shirts, 2 shorts, toothbrush and razor.
PHASE THREE:
Again, MY JOB!! (Are you getting the identified trend here?):
1. Call insurance company to insure we get health coverage on foreign lands.
2. Call credit card companies to inform them of where and when we are traveling to a foreign country so they don't think our credit card is stolen while we are there. At time of call, Hubby states he doesn't realize we are leaving THIS Thursday.
3. I call and make arrangements to have house checked, papers collected, mail held while we are away.
4. I clean the house so if we die in a horrible plane accident or get kidnapped and held as slaves in the back fields of Mexico forevermore, when they come to have the wake at our house they don't see how messy we really were when we were alive....
5. I wash clothes to get ready for the trip.
6. This immediately triggers feelings of doubt and insecurity that perhaps I did not pack the correct wardrobe for the trip, which sends me straight to my packed suitcase to switch out some of the things I had previously settled on. (and of course the matching jewelry).
7. Look at our passports for the umpteenth time to make sure they haven't expired since five minutes ago when I previously checked them.
8. Go to bank to get cash for the trip. Agonize over the correct amount and how to distribute it between the two of us at the airport.
9. Find carry-on bag and place plane itenary/tickets, passport, cash now-charged electronic gadgets such as tablet, Kindle, camera and then add a zillion MORE other things like bandaides, Tylenol, safety pins, and oh-my-God-if-you-need-ANYTHING-in-Mexico-come-find-me-and-I-will-have-IT!.
Hubby's Phase Three job:
1. Calls out for me in the house when he doesn't see me in the immediate area. When I tell him where I am, he asks what I am doing. When I tell him I am getting ready for our trip, he says: "That's TOMORROW? I thought that was NEXT week!"
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But you see. I am fine with all the above.
Because we will have fun.
We will be swimming in the ocean.
We will be drinking Pina Coladas at the swim up pool bar.
We will hold hands watching the tropical sunset every single night.
And?
The last night we are there?
I will be turning to him and saying: "You mean we are leaving TOMORROW??" "I thought that was NEXT week!!"
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If you don't see posts from me for about 10 or so days, don't be alarmed...
I either crashed in the plane, got kidnapped in Mexico
or
am just recuperating from all of the above.
