The house is currently a complete and utter tip. The only tidy room is the workroom.
But that's only by comparison to the rest.
I HATE packing!
Camping packing is bad enough, when all we have to do is ferry piles of stuff out into the campervan, but packing for not just one, but two diametrically opposed trips to in one is sheer hell.
I'm trying to think calming thoughts, while the maelstrom rages around me. Small Dog has got wind of an impending trip, but since we're not packing the campervan she is particularly agitated. Every time I turn round she is THERE, head on one side, looking at me enquiringly. She keeps checking her collar and lead and has pulled her security blanket into the hall.
PP is working frantically through a sheaf of lists, pausing occasionally to ask if I've packed something vital. Naturally I can't remember, so I schlepp upstairs to check then forget what I've gone up for.
There is stuff EVERYWHERE. I'm sure that the logistical planning for the Normandy landings didn't require as much stuff.
My 'wedding' packing is dressy and formal. I've chosen my outfit carefully and all my accessories match perfectly. I'll be in Edinburgh for two nights so I'll need a modicum of toiletries, not to mention my habitual mobile pharmacy.
The 'holiday' packing is casual. We're heading to the surfing capital of Cornwall so even smart casual is probably way too formal.
Then there's Small Dog. Who for a small furry hound requires a disproportionate amount of kit.
Not to mention caboodle.
Then there's the weather. Which is forecast to be mainly wet and windy with a few days of sunny spells/showers thrown into the mix. So we need wellies for beach/cliff walks. Plus sandals for days when the sun deigns to shine.
Then there's the hot tub in the garden. So we need 'suitable attire' for that. I've decided to go for the Victorian bathing belle look, with colourful bathing shorts which go from under my bust right down to my knees, teamed with a matching bikini top. I'm fully prepared for the whoops of derision from the rest of the party but I shall respond with a calm, quiet dignity.
Or at least as quietly dignified as it's possible to be while looking like a total idjit.
Then there's PP who has assumed the mantle of hunter-gatherer, and is taking her shrimp net and crab line, with the intention of catching us dinner one night.
Oh well, back to the fray..................