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That's Just About It
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I finished packing the suitcase (tied a red ribbon around it for easy identification) and thump, thump, thump, down the stairs to the front door.

Returned to the upstairs and brought down the carryon and the purse, neither of which is stuffed to the top. All three are ready to take out to the car.

The suitcase is bulging at the sides and the zipper is suffering from stretch-itis. My SO took one look at it and said, "That's gonna cost ya." So there's a surcharge; that's what money is for. I lost a lot of weight out of the carryon and purse, so in my mind it evens out.

All that's left on my "To Do" list is to take a shower and wash my hair (too much 'glow' from the day's activities not to do so) and to change into my travelling clothes.

After dinner, the road to New Orleans starts at my front door. Huzzah!

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

-- J R R Tolkien

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