I’m packing. I leave on Wednesday, from work, which means I need to be all packed by Tuesday night. Better to start a day early so there are fewer (notice I didn’t say “is nothing) left behind.
I need to do a load of laundry too. Need to have the right underwear (not cotton boxers) and I am wearing a tarpon shirt from Skinny Water Culture that would make much more sense in a Florida context.
When I look at what I’m bringing it occurs to be that my packing list looks something like this…
- Entire Content of Garage
I’m bringing lines for rods we don’t have, just in case. I’m bringing spools of tippet and extra sun gloves and just everything. Better safe than sorry, I’d say. I know it is silly. I’m going to Florida, not Andros. I could probably buy something I forget and there will be extra gear on hand, I’m sure, but I like to be prepared and so I’m going to have to check a bag, me thinks.
Now… I wonder what I’m forgetting…
Another reason tomorrow is a big day is that tomorrow I teach my daughter how to spell “sister.” She has no idea.
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