My bags are packed…

Kipling considered being packed in my bag so I had to explain baggage allowances to him. I mean, I’m underweight in both suitcase and carry on and between the two could actually pack my pooddle-cross senior rescue dog. But part of the point of all of this is to be in a situation where I’m only beholden to myself for the first time in my adult life. No spouse, no children, no pet, no committee or boss or houseplants even.

Actually I think I’m going to betray myself on that and join a Folk Music Ontario committee this weekend. When I return to my life and my dog and my houseplants (if they live) I’ll be joining a few more things. I’m so involved in this life, but not committed. No more skimming the surface. I think. Maybe. We’ll see.

In the meantime I had to say goodbye to my doggie today – it didn’t phase him. I said goodbye to my daughter this morning and to my son this afternoon and then I sat in the hotel lobby and tried not to cry. They’ll be fine, good, great. They have interesting, exciting lives. They have excellent, loving partners who keep them supplied with support and hugs. And with computers in our pockets, how far away can anyone actually go?

We’ll see.

Four days of folk music and then indefinite Europe.

I’m ready to go.