It is possible that the entire bubble of suppressed anxiety fell upon me this morning the moment my eyelids started to quiver open? Apparently so! The countdown to departure is quite seriously consuming me, bit by bit.

We had an eventful week: the girls and I were on CBC RadioActive with Peter Brown on Thursday. Sophia described it as “finding her true calling.”

I finally finished packing, and still have room to spare! Rolling clothing is genius, and I had no appreciation of it until I actually did it, and it has changed my life. Here is a photo of my one and ONLY suitcase:

Our wonderful neighbours on 90th street (OK, and some from 89th street!) threw us an amazing dinner last night. There was all types of dishes from many of the countries we will visit, plus a beautiful ring of bread from the Italian centre with each country’s flag poked in. We ate extraordinary foods and the company was exceptional.

Then today, our house sitter moved all of her belongings into our basement. I remember speaking with her months ago, and marking the date on our calendar while thinking, “This is ages away!” and here we are. What was good about her move came in the form of reassurance that we are making the right decision to have someone with Ruthie, in our own house, instead of packing the dog up to go stay elsewhere.

I managed, finally, to get our passports put into PDF files, and stored magically in virtual-land, just in case we lose them. Part of the difficulty and frustration with planning this trip has been anticipating every worst-case-scenario situation, and attempting to plan for it. Of course, it will never be a fool-proof success, but there are so many things to consider.

On a happy note, I have packed the first ten books of Yann Martel’s recommendations. I am very excited to read some Agatha Christie on our flight to London next week.

So, today I am off to retrieve half of our malaria pill supply, some altitude sickness pills and a general antibiotic. I packed my 360 pills of dramamine yesterday, and whatever other pill I could find in our medicine cupboard. What if I have gas? What if I have a sore throat? What if I have indigestion? What if, what if, what if? I’d better pack some aspirin for the headache I am getting from what ifing myself to death.

This final week in Edmonton will bring saying goodbye to immediate family, reading the house for our new tenant, and finalizing the packing. I can’t believe we are a mere week away already. I think Olivia described it best: “one minute I’m scared, the next I’m excited. Really, all my feelings are so mixed up”.