The car is packed. I've thrown out the rubbish, turned off unnecessary outlets. The bed is made. The dishes have been washed
I've got the snackies and the drinks and the car trips necessities.
All is well.
Now, I just have to get the cat into his carrier and we can go.
He knows something his up. His blanket isn't where it's supposed to be. I've been moving stuff around the place, taking the weekend's needs down to the car.
Just wish me luck.
At least chasing around an eight-year-old cat is a little easier than chasing round a two-year-old critter.
Great Ocean Road here I come.
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