It Could Come In Handy

I am packing my bags to go on a holiday in the countryside.

The weather is uncertain, and, since it is June, we could get just about anything: a heat wave, pouring rain, hail, snow, cloudy and windy, or—what I hope for—REALLY NICE.

I thought I was well set, packing-wise, since I can take on the plane an ordinary suitcase, a carry-on suitcase, a backpack, and even a purse. There should be lots of room for anything I could need.

Except that, after I sort of got the bags packed—other than the last-minute, morning-of packing—I began to think of other things I should probably include.

For instance, as to footwear, there is no way that one or even two pairs of shoes could cover all the eventualities. I could ideally use, and indeed, out of prudence should have along, sandals (the plastic ones, plus the grey ones—newish—and the blue ones, much older but still good), hiking boots (plus the thick socks to make them fit), loafers for travelling in and for casual walking if the weather and the terrain call for them (and there I would ideally like my new navy loafers as well as my very old black loafers, which I wouldn’t care if they got wet or muddy), plus, of course, my walking shoes if the hike doesn’t quite call for the hiking boots.

And that’s the bare minimum. No slippers, no fancy shoes—just seven pairs of shoes, or roughly 1.75 cubic feet of shoes.

And that’s just the footwear!

I have four hats, each of which could potentially be The Very One I want for the activity, weather, or time of day. Four. If I nest them together and put the hiking socks inside the crown, that’s about another cubic foot. Plus the delicacy of packing carefully around the dashing brims.

Then, even though there is every chance the weather will be cool and damp for the duration, how can I leave out shorts (two pairs, one casual and one nicer), a bathing suit, and a sundress (just in case)? Because how awful would you feel on the unexpectedly hot summer afternoon when you didn’t have the sundress or the shorts, but had to sit baking in the sun in your jeans while all the other people cavorted around in little or nothing?

And if the bathing suit is being packed, that requires the goggles because, ooh yuck, I can’t stand water in my eyes, and also the bathing suit cover-ups (one for a cold day and one for a hot day), because it is necessary for the trek from wherever to the beach, during which trek you don’t want people to faint at the jiggly sight of you. Jiggly and white.

(Another cubic foot: warm-weather gear.)

That’s just in case the weather is nice.

Now for the not-so-nice weather. This needs the hoodie (for medium-cool weather), the smallest winter parka (for ghastly cold weather), and the rain jacket because, of course, it is thin, has pockets, has a hood, so of course, that.

I haven’t even begun on ordinary clothing. It has to go with the pathetic little 1.75-cubic-foot wardrobe of footwear I am bringing, has to be comfortable, and sufficiently fetching.

That ordinary clothing is what I put in the suitcases to start with, before I started thinking about what else could come in handy.

Oh yes. Toiletries. Such a quantity that I am practically bringing the whole bathroom. Cosmetics, cleansers, lotions, all the rest of it. A man can bring a small container with a razor, shaving cream, a toothbrush, and toothpaste, and he is good to go. What I need to take (and I am really not a fussy woman; I can guarantee that) amounts to about another cubic foot of items that originated at Shoppers Drug Store. That must come along, just in case.

Then books. What if I find I am not liking the book I bring? I must have a backup book in case the first is a disappointment. So, at least two books.

Food, because, just in case, there could be an emergency. The plane could be stuck on the tarmac for hours, but I will be the clever one with food in my backpack. Unfortunately, being from Saskatchewan, I would have to share it. Here, have some of my loaves and fishes.

The fact is that, having packed so generously, most of what I have crammed into the suitcases will not be used and will molder and fester. When it bursts back out of the suitcases once I am home, it will all have to go into the laundry because, although it has not been worn, it is bedraggled and of uncertain provenance.

Every trip to the Dollar Store before my holiday has meant I find some handy little container, some little foldable accessory, that is a good idea and could come in handy.

This is all a bit like Christmas. You keep shopping for it until it is finally upon you, and then, mercifully, the shopping suddenly stops.

I hope they don’t lose my suitcase.