Days to go

     Less than a week now before I set sail, or, more precisely, board the plane for Chicago and then to Paris. And then I'll be underway, on a way I've set for myself since last October. I wonder if I'm ready, but I also know that one can never be fully ready. I think I'm ready as I can be.
    Well, that's not entirely true. Six days before I leave, I'm still not certain about my backpack. The one I've had since last fall is a Deuter 45+10, and I do love the way it feels on my back. But it's not a very light backpack, because of its size. It's light for its size, but I got to thinking that maybe at 3 pounds 6 ounces, it might be heavier than another one. So I started researching online, and I found another pack, 40 liters, at 2 pounds 1 ounce. A great difference! So I've ordered it and I'm waiting to see if it has the support that the Deuter does, and if all my gear fits in nicely. If so that is so, then I'll be switching packs not midstream but at the last moment before going over the waterfall. The new pack arrives on the morrow.
    Meanwhile I've been winnowing down each ditty bag--the bag for the shower and laundering, the bag of clothes, the bag for nighttime, the bag for first aid and the one for medication, the little bag for electronics, for want of a better designation. It has my adaptor plug, my extra fitbit battery, my chargers. And then there's the bag for underwear, socks, etc. And miscellaneous, a bandana, liner gloves, a sarong. I also have a plastic envelope that closes securely, in which to keep important documents, like my plane tickets, a copy of my passport and other essential things, and in which I can keep anything of that sort that I collect along the way.
     I've called my credit and debit card companies to let them know I'll be out of the country for two months, I've stopped the newspaper and had the mail forwarded to Becky's house, I've written final instructions and last wishes, in case of the worst happening. I wonder what I still have left undone, left to do. I need to clean my house!

Little Creek Hollow

     I've come to the little cabin in the hollow for a weekend with my daughter, son-in-law and nearly four year old granddaughter,. This is an enchanted place, tucked between two ridges of trees, backed by a national forest, fronted by a little-used gravel road which runs past their property. On the other side of the gravel road is a beautiful spring-fed creek, Little Sinking Creek. Just next to the little cabin a tiny creek runs, not much more than a brook, spilling softly over shallow rocks, sending the music of the running water through the woods. They call it Little Creek.
     I come here to breathe deeply and to walk the gravel road with my hiking poles and boots. I can imagine myself on the Camino better here than I can at the gym, walking the circular track. Even here, though, it's hard to be outdoors long on a hot Missouri summer day, in the 90's. Another part of my preparation though is using my sleeping bag here, to see how it feels to me. I'm not happy with what I've discovered. I don't like sleeping in a sleeping bag, because I feel so confined in my movement. I turn a lot in the night, and that's hard in a sleeping bag, even with one side open. And it's a light sleeping bag too, so it doesn't provide much warmth if I need it. In the middle of the night last night I thought about alternatives, some solution that would be both comfortable for me, for nearly two months, and also light-weight. And I decided to look for a light-weight fitted sheet to take with me. Then I could use my sleeping bag for a blanket, either half of it or both halves, depending on the temperature and whether or not the albergue where I'm staying has provided a blanket. It sounds as though that might be a good choice, but only time will tell. I've found a lightweight sheet online and have ordered it already. Something else to test out. And I can hope for a better night sleeping tonight, without that to worry about.