Traveling Light

In the old days while flying, before fast foods, except for Swanson Dinners,
I once took raw potatoes in a metal pot on board a flight from South Carolina to Biloxi, MS.  I was little miss Betty Crocker cooking her meals from scratch as soon as my little feet touch ground. 

The older I get, the less I pack for traveling.  In fact, I have noticed lately that when I travel for 2 days, my suitcase is really a roller backpack; but because, I never use the back straps, I don't think of it as a backpack.
Most bellhops who see my roller bag ask, " Is this it?"
I reply, "Yes. I don't need any help."

I am packing for a 4 days trip to Montana.  I am down to a pair of snow boots, one pair of Blue jeans and a top; long underwear, a dress and shawl for dinner. I have a large size purse which holds a smaller purse and all the food I need if we sit on the tarmac for a few hours.

Food is more important than clothes; so Eve thought, until she ate the apple.

I don't have to pack my coat or the clothes I wear; only the bath and makeup essentials which the airlines make so easy, since I can only take small liquids in a ziplock bag. 
I wish I could get it all in a backpack, but the boots alone will take up half the space in a small carry-on suitcase. They look like boots for the moon; heavy enough to hold me down so I won't fly away.

I think of clothes as a bare minimum necessity; not a fashion statement.
When my daughters tell me that my dress is out of style by two years ; I remind them that, according to the history of fashion; the same style comes back every 20 years which means: I am Not out of fashion; I am ahead of the Times by 18 years.

It seems my husband packs more than I do these days. His suitcase is bigger than mine; although, the smaller one for carry-on purposes. Sometimes he buys an extra shirt or sweater on a trip because he does not pack according to the weather.
I remember giving him some advise as to what to pack one day when we were traveling together. He snapped back at me that he is a "world traveler;" unlike me, and he didn't need any help in packing. And then he proceeded to pack, absentmindedly, leaving all his underwear at home.  We were on our way to a country retreat with his company.

While sitting with the boss's wife, I thought it was safe enough...wife to wife...mentioning my husband's packing, superiority attitude towards me while he was forgetting his underwear.  She laughed.

The next day, on one of our bus tour outings to a country BBQ; the bus stopped to pick up some singing cowboys standing on the roadside out in the middle of nowhere. They serenaded us with a thinly disguised western song about my husband and another team member who left their underwear somewhere and had none.
My husband looked at me and I looked at him...

I am thinking all the while that: that innocent comment I had made the day before had gone up the ladder to the boss who obviously gave it to a couple of singing cowboys who, in turn, wrote a song about it.
I said to my husband, " What a coincidence. " 

He repeated, " It's amazing, what a coincidence!"

Since he chooses not to read my blogs...he will never know; unless you tell him.