I am packing for my family for a two-day ski trip.
Skiing is one of those sports that requires a lot of gear. As in, by the time I'm done packing, we might just want to keep driving and set up house wherever we run out of gas. (Except we're not taking the pets and therefore we will be returning. And then it will take us, oh, six weeks to UNpack.)
I can no longer ski, thanks to my FULF, so for me, I am packing yarn. A lot of yarn. More than any reasonable person could be expected to actually knit in two days. (I just feel the need to make sure I DON'T RUN OUT. I mean, what if there is some sort of yarn EMERGENCY and the only way for me to save the planet is to produce a large amount of yarn?? Y'all. What if someone needs hand-knitted socks and it's a matter of life and death and he or she wears a SIZE 16 Double Wide??
It could totally happen.)
Anyway, I'm rushing around making sure that we have long underwear and goggles, toothbrushes and socks, snow bibs and pajamas, sock yarn and mitten yarn... and I see this:
Sir Edward (Don't Hate Me Because I'm Beautiful) Kitty is taking the day in stride. Or, um, NOT in stride.
It's not hard to love a world that includes Edward's toes.