Yes, that, exactly.

Most of the past twenty-four hours have been spent in meandering preparation for canadatrek. The end result: I'm packed, and Jeff's packed. Everything that's required has been done, and the to-do list is down to more mundane things, like running loads of dishes and cleaning the litterbox.

The cats know that something's up. Every time Edmund and I cross paths, I receive a baleful kitty stare. Perhaps he has come to associate the smell of luggage with me vanishing from his life for a few days. If he has, he's a smart kitty. Tenzing, on the other hand, just wants to be played with.

Website-related news: at last, I have working code to make domesticat skinnable. I'm going to use the time while I'm gone to let the graphic-design part of my brain rest and rejuvenate. I'm working on a second skin, based off of a theme of storm clouds and lightning, but I'm waiting to get permission from the original photographer before I use the picture.

Breathe, Amy, breathe.

Known: that I get nervous before trips.
Unknown: why I am so much more worried than usual about this one.

We head out in 72 hours. (O Canada…) Packing list: done. Clothes: not yet washed. Mind: not yet calmed. While it is normal for me to worry about takeoffs and landings a bit, it's been quite some time since I've experienced the sheer volume of worry and unease that's floating around my gut regarding this trip.

The time for leaving approaches. My attempts to whittle down on the to-do list continue. Slowly upon slowly, the attempts are succeeding.

Left:

• Pick up and photocopy passports
• Drop off white comforter for dry-cleaning
• Give Kat plant watering schedule
• Make mortgage and truck payments befure we leave
• Put out trash night before we leave
• Cut my hair
• Cut Jeff's hair
• Power down computers
• Clean up kitchen
• Buy film. (Lots.)
• Do final loads of laundry and dishes
• Clean litterbox

Hard to believe—a week from tonight the journey begins. Pick up Jeff after work on Wednesday, and drive down to Birmingham with Heather. Stay the night—neatly enough, in the same hotel we stayed in the night before we flew up to Victoria last year. We'll get up very early for an insanely early set of cross-country flights.

It appears that, once again, the world's ended and everyone forgot to let me know ahead of time.

I knew something had to be up this morning when I woke up and Jeff informed me that 1) he wasn't feeling well and 2) that he was taking a sick day. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the McSpouse that is only slightly more likely than me to continue soldiering on through dismemberment and slight cases of death, actually took a sick day.

I brought him the sandwich he wanted from Publix (foot-long, on white, no mayo, and all kinds of stuff that would keep me from snitching bites like banana peppers / onions / pickles), the particular species of chips that appealed to him, and the makings for more Kool-Aid.

I'm going to step back for a moment and give you an uncharacteristic taste of what it's like to be me.

Repeat after me: *squealy squealy boingy boingy bounce bounce boing!*

Cheers—I got a hacked-together version of this page put together, along with an auto-redirect, that allows Netscape 4.x users to read the front page of domesticat. There, my conscience is assuaged!

Booked the tickets for CanadaTrek this morning—can't believe I'm really going back to the Pacific Northwest. I wonder if the people who live there all the time realize just how beautiful it is up there? My lasting memory of Vancouver Island can be summed up in three words: drop dead gorgeous.

I have more questions to ask Brad. It's 11:20 now here—9:20 there. I'll call and see if he's wandered home from work yet.

Tomorrow: take Tenzing to the vet. I already know that he's better, and it's not going to take the vet long to see that. After that, recover the kitchen from tonight's curry extravaganza, and finish folding and putting away the clothes that I washed today.