When you pack for your vacation, what is “all you need?”

• Assume that the basics of life are covered (i.e. food, shelter).
• These are the “extras” you need to make your vacation complete.
• Don’t hesitate and don’t be logical.

What’s on that list? What is ALL that you need?

My father used to pack his car with his woodworking tools and a TV set. ). A neighbour of mine went everywhere with her slow cooker. I’ve heard others boast of nothing but a toothbrush, sun tan lotion and a bathing suit  (Really?) I’ve had kids arrive home from university with everything they own in a knapsack—plus a goldfish and a bassoon.

One of my sons travels with a kayak on the roof of his car and golf clubs in the trunk (you just never know when you’ll stumble across a river or a golf course). All I want are my books, says one friend. I was in the LCBO one day and a lady was loading two cases of Prosecco into her car, “For my mother at the lake,” she explained, ”It’s really all she needs.”

All I need….

The words remind me of one of comedy’s funniest moments when Navin (Steve Martin in The Jerk) frantically gathers up “all he needs” before leaving his girlfriend, Marie.

I don’t need anything except this (he picks up an ashtray) and that’s it and that’s the only thing I need, is this. I don’t need this or this. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game (picks it up), the ashtray and the paddle game and that’s all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game and the remote control, and that’s all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball. And this lamp.

So the spirit of full disclosure, I too have “all I need” when I move my workplace to the cottage for the summer:

• Computer, phone and multiple charging devices (well, I do WORK up there and this isn’t about total isolation)
• My plants. Yes, I dig them up (a couple dozen at least), move them north, then bring them back in the fall… or at least, the ones that I can fit into my car.
• My watercolour paints (my “studio” changes overnight from the kitchen table to an actual room with a view)
• My cats (rational: there are mice; real reason? I like them)
• My sewing machine (and all the bits and pieces that come with a so-called portable model)
• My Nespresso maker (can’t bring George C., might as well pack the machine)

So as you’re going out the door —what is “all you need?”