Well, before I could pack I needed some plastic bags. I went to the bank and the post office and No Frills and got some cash, mailed a couple of essential things, bought a couple of essential things., came home and tackled a three-month backlog of essential papers beside my desk top computer, actually put them into file folders for easy reference. All this because I have to pack the bag that's being picked up, emptying it first because I didn't take all the staff out of it when I was notified of the cancellation/postponement of the cruise. Now I start again. In the meantime, I have checked the temperatures of the ports of call. They range from the 30s (Celsius) in French Polynesia to 10 degrees in Hobart, Tasmania. Layers! Layers is the answer.

I keep coming across the hidden blessings of procrastination. I was able to toss or shred or save to write on the other side of papers that I'd kept too long to be useful or relevant. Just think how much higher they would have piled up if I weren't going away.

Now what I have to do is pack on paper. I make a list of the clothes I need and the clothes I want and the clothes that will cover for the clothes I don't take. You know the standard advice for packing: pack and then remove half the clothes you've packed; take money from the bank and then get twice as much.

It's been a long day and my battery is running low - on me and on my computer. And we're springing forward tonight. No turning back.

And my stomach is getting quite fluttery. It was a good day today. Everything I'm doing now is directly aimed at my departure in one way or another. This morning my son Matt and I signed new wills.

This is Matt's first will. It's the first time he's had money in his own name, thanks to the government. He has an RDSP - a Retired Disability Savings Plan. It was launched in 2008 and apparently it has been a well-kept secret. I read that by last year only 14% of those eligible were in the plan. When I found out about it, it took a couple of years to do all the paperwork to get Matt signed up. He's challenged, as I've told you, but he is "high-functioning". He has a competitive if menial job as a buggy-gopher for Loblaws.. Several years ago he asked me, "Am I going to push grocery carts for the rest of my life?" Well, yes, if he's lucky. And after that? Like everyone else, he needed a retirement plan. I have tried since he was born, to help him be independent with assistance, of course, from the government and community services at different levels, for which I am grateful. My prolonged absence on this cruise I am taking will be good for us both. I won't be here forever.

So we signed our wills. I've said that my preparation has seemed like getting ready to step off the edge of the earth. Any thing can happen. We all know that, and it often does. I do hope to return but if I don't, then I hope I haven't left too much of a mess to clean up after me. That's not what makes me fluttery. I always get like this before I take a trip, trying to plan what to take and what to leave. Mostly I leave stuff. I don't mind looking like Little Orphan Annie when I travel. Does anyone remember Little Orhan Annie?

Little Orphan Annie was a daily American comic strip created by Harold Gray (1894–1968) and syndicated by the Tribune Media Services. The strip took its name from the 1885 poem "Little Orphant Annie" by James Whitcomb Riley, and made its debut on August 5, 1924 in the New York Daily News. It ranked number one in popularity in a Fortune poll in 1937. (Wikipedia)

She always wore the same (red) dress, week after week, month after month, year after year. That's me on a trip. Speaking of which, I have to pack my pre-shipped bag this weekend. I told you that, already, but I've been thinking about it, before I've done anything concrete. It's the decisions that wear me down. I'll think some more tomorrow.