Running on Moroccan Time, Again.

We were supposed to leave for vacation today.

The plan was simple: we were supposed have everything packed by last night, my husband was supposed go to work and my daughter to her preschool, I would pack, and my husband was supposed leave work (presumably by 1:00), bringing our daughter home with him, and we would drive away.

We were supposed to stay in a hotel about 400=500 miles from our home, just under halfway to our destination.

Supposed to.

So we hit a few "bumps" in our organizational plan, although, I will say that this has been the closest we've ever been to being organized for a vacation.

What caused all the problems?

Well, some of it, I have to admit, was me. I've been working on a quilt for my sister for about five years now. Just so you know, by "working on" I mean madly sewing in 1-2 spurts and then setting it down for a few months when the sewing machine is put away. The idea was I would have the quilt completed for this trip. I didn't have that much left to do, or so I thought, but as usual, everything ends up differently than expected. For one, the fabric chosen for the backing ended up being stretchy, which is NOT a good quality in a quilting fabric--but my sister liked the print and honestly, we hadn't really realized it was NOT a quilting fabric or that it had a stretch to it.

This was just one of the problems I encountered. I could probably start a quilting blog to detail the rest of them, but I won't bore you with posting all that here.

Then, it turns out my husband didn't understand what I meant by "leave work early." His idea of this was 3:00 or 4:00 and since he's in the middle of a big project with deadlines, well, let's just say somewhere the communication broke down on this one.

Eventually between the quilting challenges, us not being totally packed, and his inability to leave work early, and just plain being us, I decided that I would rather do the whole 1000-mile, 16-17 hour drive in one shot than drive for 2-3 hours, unload the car at a hotel, sleep, reload the car, and drive for 13-15 more hours. Silly.

In the process of getting ready, I had borrowed a bike rack, which I had to "MacGyver" to fit my car with some dollar-store pool noodles and electrician's tape. Nothing fancy, but it would work and I was glad that I would be able to 1) take my bike on the trip and 2) without cramming it inside my car.

So we packed up everything, piled it into the living room, and went to bed.

Only 24 hours behind schedule.