We are off. The whole list didn't get completed but the vast majority of it did, including a small break-down on my part. I was fine until we dropped the cat off at my in-laws' house and Paul asked how many shirts they would pack for a 12-day trip. FIL said three, aunt said five, uncle rambled on for a bit about nothing in particular never answering the question, and I think MIL said eight. Paul suggested that perhaps the dozen I had laid out for myself and the ten for him didn't all need to go in the suitcases (I wasn't planning on it but that was my breakdown moment). And I'll just have to come home to a scrungy house.
We're going to Houston on Thursday and then on to London Heathrow on Friday. My biggest hope is that my luggage has the same plans. I've checked and rechecked all my lists and bags. Although if I hend up with just my wallet and my passport, I should be OK. I understand that even as bad as English teeth are joked about being, toothbrushes are available for purchase in the UK.
And in honor of this little jaunt across the pond, a favorite scene ("Don't mention the war!") from Fawlty Towers for your viewing pleasure:
We'll be back in the Land of Enchantment on July 2. I'm sure I'll have lots of pictures and stories to tell.
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