Canada 2025, Part II: Strategic, Tactical Hoodies

 [written in the several hours before the trip]

I have removed all unnecessary items from my luggage. I have reorganized said luggage. I have booked the Uber for the trip to the airport. I have meticulously gone through everything I have, as much as possible, and pared it down to what I need and what I can leave home. My suitcase is still 29 pounds. At this juncture, there's virtually nothing I can do to make it lighter. 

I am exhausted. I feel like I'm ripping open at the seams, like a bag of cat litter dropped on a sidewalk. 

Hank's eye consultation was yesterday afternoon. He has, thankfully, a prognosis for full and complete recovery -- with some time and some steroids. We got a new set of drops to give him, and if he doesn't get them while we're gone, the cat eye doctor said it's okay -- he'll be fine until we get back. This takes some pressure off the catsitter if she can't catch him, because Hank is notoriously skittish. Even though he knows our catsitter and doesn't mind her, it's an entirely different scenario if she has to chase him down to give him eyedrops. But, I guess we do these eyedrops until we take him back in later this month, and then we assess how long before we can start him on steroids which should kill the infection. Apparently, it's not just "eye herpes," he has a condition where it's sort of like an autoimmune thing and his body is attacking itself. I guess it's somewhat common in cats and the steroids will knock it down a peg and allow his eye to heal without constant re-clouding and "scabbing over," for lack of a better term. She also said that from everything she can tell, he does have vision in that eye still, it's just occluded. That takes a lot of stress off our minds as we prepare to go wheels up to another country for nine days. 

Our betta fish, Lucy, died two nights ago. Truthfully, he'd been on the way out for a while, and we could tell. Daisy had cleaned his tank a couple of times and had attempted to correct the pH in his water as best as possible, but it was a constant losing battle. He wasn't sick or anything, but we could tell he was struggling. Finally, he died and sank to the bottom...where he was immediately set upon by the snails. 

The snails devoured him completely in the span of about eight hours. There's nothing left, not even a little skeleton. His corpse is gone. By the time I realized he had died, he was already covered in snails and about 1/3 of the way eaten. We just...let them have him, I guess. I wasn't going to reach in there and pull out a half-eaten dead fish -- we're going to be out of the country for nine days, and that's extra sustenance for the snails. 

I did feed the snails this morning with their normal food. They'll be fine during the time we're gone. If they're not and some die, population control and the living ones will eat the dead, because they always do. That tank is like 90% self-sustaining if we want it to be; it's not gonna go tits-up while we're in Canada. 

Daisy has finished packing. She has some light cleaning to do and some reorganization of the household stuff to make it more presentable for the catsitter, but otherwise she's ready to go. We're checked in for our flights, and because of the AAdvantage credit cards we have now, we have free checked bags. 

Pete has had his IV fluids this morning. Cats' bowls and water fountain have all been washed and readied for them. I have re-dyed my hair with the conditioner-based dye and will be washing it out in about an hour or so -- I wanted to look fresh for the trip. 

The temperatures in Omaha, while we're gone, are going to take a sharp dive this next week -- highs in the 80s and brushing with the 90s until right after we leave, then a snap back down to what I would consider "normal" temperatures for October -- highs in the 60s and maybe brushing against 70. So, essentially, the same temperatures we'll encounter in Canada. So, we shouldn't have to have the AC running and slowly killing itself while we're gone -- we can set it to 75 or so and it can run when it needs to. The cats will be fine. 

Itinerary for tomorrow will be very tight -- we are wheels up in Omaha at 6am, hit Philly around 9:30 (local time) and then have a scant 40 or so minutes to get to the next terminal to get on the plane to Halifax before they close the doors. I am still nervous about that, but hoping for the best. 

Once in Halifax (around 2:30pm local time) we should be able to get through customs, get the cash exchanged and pick up the rental car -- as mentioned before -- and stop for some light groceries on the way to the family homestead, arriving at our lodgings (a mile from the family home) sometime in the early evening hours. It's not an incredibly long drive, and we're a week out from the Canadian Thanksgiving holiday, so as long as the weather cooperates it should be a pleasant, relaxing drive up there through the mainland of Nova Scotia on the Trans-Canada Highway. 

After we check into the hotel and put the food away, we plan to go up to the house to see Daisy's grandmother and bring her the stuff we are carrying for her from us and from Daisy's mother. 

This is, of course, if everything goes smoothly and as intended. On trips to Canada, it rarely does -- there's always a few snags here and there that gum up the works. And honestly, I'm expecting at least one or two things to go wrong. It's going to be a long day and there are many, many variables at play. And me knowing I'll be tired and cranky, surviving on nicotine gum, mints, and energy drinks while we're inside the travel/airport environment will make it harder. 

The cats -- the ones who pay attention, anyway -- know we're leaving. Pete has been big-eyed and rather anxious over the course of the past day or so, and has spent as much time with me as possible. Mable has given Daisy the stinkeye last night and all day today. I don't know, exactly, if the others are aware of what's going on. Hank and Emmy just tend to sleep a lot when we're gone, and the double trouble boys I am not sure are really aware of us getting ready for a trip, or if they are aware it doesn't seem to affect them. They like the catsitter anyway, probably the most of all of the cats. 

Like for our trip to North Carolina, I am not particularly worried or concerned about the safety and welfare of the cats and the house. The catsitter takes extremely good care of them and the parents are also a phone call away. Even our next-door neighbor knows we'll be out of town and to keep a watch on things, and in a pinch we do have a few friends local to the area who could swing by in an emergency. With the temperatures cooling off and no severe weather expected while we're gone, I'm also more at ease. 

This is the forecast for where we'll be in Nova Scotia for the vast majority of the time we're there:

I mean, I think that is pretty damn nice. Nearly 80, in October, in Canada? That's wild. So yes, I'm definitely going to enjoy some t-shirt-and-shorts weather up there. I mean, there are the other days where it'll be in the 50s and low 60s too, but still. Still. I think the clothing we've packed is pretty adequate for all of that. I'm wearing shorts and one of the new fleece hoodies when we fly out in the morning.

"You're going to sweat to death in that fleece hoodie," Daisy told me. It is currently midnight and it is still 75 degrees outside. "Can't you stuff it into your carry-on?"

"I'll be fine," I said. "And probably not, it is far too bulky."

We shall see. I may not need it when I fly out of here, but I likely will once I step into the cool fall air of Halifax. 

That hoodie is also a strategic tactical hoodie -- meaning, it has zippered pockets, pockets I can carry things like my mp3 player, vape, and passport/boarding passes inside without worrying about them getting lost because they will always be on my person. 

Daisy set a hair appointment for Monday night with the stylist up on the island, the one she goes to nearly every time we're in Canada now. I don't know exactly what she's planning to do with her hair, but they do a great job with it every time. She absolutely, genetically, has "Nova Scotia hair," and the stylist she goes to is one of the very few people who knows how to actually cut her hair right without making her look like little orphan Annie if it's done short and without making it look like we paid $60CAD for nothing if they leave it longer. 

So that's about it. I have completely finished my to-do list as well as my packing list. The last thing I need to do is swap out my glasses I'm wearing before we leave for more comfortable, fashionable ones -- I have been rocking the "grandpa glasses" around the house today as I needed something slim and unobtrusive when I was dyeing my hair:

While they're comfortable, they're not exactly glasses I want to wear the entire time we're in Nova Scotia, nor do I want multiple pictures taken of me in them, because they are so far outside of what my normal "style" is of glasses -- usually chunky black frames or big, exaggerated aviators. I have an image to uphold, after all.

By the way, if you like those glasses, go to Payne Glasses and put in that model number next to the name, and you too can get grandpa glasses for yourself for $12.

Anyway, wish us luck. I will update everyone here upon our safe return. So, if you're reading this, we have already made it there and back.