The weighty matter of packing

I am stressed.  Preparing for a relaxing holiday is stressful.

The Gardener says, in gung-ho tones, "Passports, tickets, money!"

I say "Shoes, toiletries, clothing!"

and add, sotto voce, "and the rest.... list for house sitter, mostly to do with pets' bodily functions, instructions re peculiarities of said pets, oven, heating system, doorbell, where everything is situated, who to call on for help and/or information", and so much more.

I curb my natural tendency to pack as though I am travelling to Outer Mongolia where the nearest chemist or corner shop may be some days' hard travelling away. I fill the wash bag to cope with all contingencies; I pack changes of comfy shoes, Kindle, phone, sterling and euros, list of emergency contacts, and so much more. I unpack when the scales show that I must, and reluctantly discard the least essential items, although I feel that it's all essential. Except for the bathing costume - I unpack that and hide it. I hate swimming, and now I can't possibly be coerced into it.

Meantime, The Gardener stocks up on cameras,  iPad, cables, chargers, and not much more. Is he really intending to spend a week in the same shorts and t-shirt? I re-pack for him, adding changes of comfy shoes, t-shirts, shorts, a hairbrush, and take some of his techie stuff out of his overloaded hand luggage and put it in mine.

All has been weighed and re-weighed; all just meets the rather stingy weight limitations of the airline.

Now we just have to clean, hoover, wash up, fluff cushions and pets, walk Flossie for the last time, and then we can set off for the airport and the handover there to house sitter Lesley of car keys (The Gardener's car; mine is still in the garage awaiting parts) and the 3-page list of information, instructions, handy hints and general neurotic ramblings that I've compiled with detailed diligence over the past week. I've also had my hair cut and coloured, my painful back massaged and my toenails painted a delicate pink. I'm ready. I'm exhausted.

The forecast for where we are heading is for rain. I don't pack raincoats or umbrellas, but I would if I had the weight allowance.

Tickets, passports, money, my eye.

See you in just over a week's time. Majorca, here we come!