Paperwork

Paperwork is what I should be doing this very second, not writing this post.  But I have the papers all laid out in front of me, and well, I just feel frozen.  I hate doing these kind of things.  And one of them has to be notarized, so that throws in just enough of a curve that I put them down on the table again and after doing everything else I can think of to put off dealing with the papers I am now writing this post.  I have watered plants, moved plants, rolled my 4 skirts up and stuck them in a zip lock, rolled the 5 shirts, stuck them in another zip lock and I will roll one pair of pants, maybe another shirt, this one long sleeved and stick them into a zip lock.  That leaves one Ziploc for under garments, nightgown, deodorant and toothbrush/paste.  Four one gallon Ziplocs and that will be about 1/3 of my suit case.  Throw in a pair of shoes and my meds and I am done.  
Done. 


My Dad called last night after 10 pm.  Now that I am retired he assumes he can call me later.  I said well, OK, but I still go to bed by 9.  I am just not a night owl.  Never have been, never will be.  But I did my best to focus on our conversation, which the jest was he has packed his large suitcase and his giant carry on and well, I will just have to put the rest in my suitcase.  I said OK.  So this morning I took the smaller suitcase and switched it for the medium one and there is plenty of room for his stuff.  I think most of it is presents for the people we are going to stay with, so that means that we will be shedding these things as the trip progresses.  By the time we get to Madrid for our last couple of days My suitcase should be at least half empty. So I can pick up a few things, or I can slip my backpack into the medium suitcase and only have to deal with one bag.  And the wheel chair.  


Oh yes, the wheel chair.
I need to go out and make sure that I have everything ready for it, including bungee cords for the suitcases.  Dad is not happy about the wheel chair, but it will give us so much more mobility.  And that is a very good thing.


I have called my older brother and wished him a very happy 60th birthday.  That seems so bizarre that he is 60.  Of course he threw it right back that I am retired.  I said, yep, we are both getting older, but you are getting older faster then I am.  He could not argue.  


Dad turns 86 today.  I will call him this evening and wish him a happy birthday.  I am bringing their birthday presents along with Dad's father's day presents.  I will get there by noon on Wednesday so that we can get his bags repacked with all the things he thinks he needs to bring.  Thursday my oldest brother, Rob will take us to the airport.  


The airport
Airports make me shudder.  
I will wear non metal clothing, no jewelry that could cause a beep, shoes that slip on and off easily and a coat that will slip into the tub along with my carry on bag.  I like to just blend in and not be noticed.  My father is the exact opposite and in fact in the Lisbon Airport the last time we flew his pants fell down to his knees, not once, but three times.  There he stood in his tighty whiteys.  Normal people would have died of embarrassment.  Not my Dad!  Oh no, he clowned it up until they were ready to do just about anything to get rid of him.  Bless his little heart.  That's my Dad!


OK, now that it is afternoon, time to finish the papers and get my butt in gear, out of the house and into town to deal with those last minute details.  Drop Mr. Moon's birthday present off, buy dog food and so on.


It is a wonderful and beautiful summer day here.  I have ordered my drugs, waiting on packages, almost completely packed, working on retirement, and taking time to pull a weed or adjust a sprinkler or move a plant as I move through the day.  
More later.  I need to get all of my insanity and posting down by tomorrow night.  I will have 2 weeks where the opportunity to post may not be possible.


Getting excited
getting psyched
getting a tad nervous
getting up to take an ativan