I'm currently packing for Temple. I know I've got too much stuff, but I never know what we'll be doing, and since I'm not flying this time, I can take as much as I want. Except Memaw, the garage sale queen, called to ask if there'd be room for her to take a large duffel bag in which to carry back all of her treasures (read: cheap crap no one else wants). If my car smells like old socks on the way home, I will NOT be happy.
Evidently our Friday evening plans have been hijacked by another doctor party. I swear, Lon and I need to invest in some sort of doctor-to-English dictionary before we embark on yet another evening of medical jargon. Perhaps I can find someone to play doctor with me before the evening's over.
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Perhaps you misunderstood! I don't have a duffle bag. I have a rubber tote that you have to help me load and unload. It is full of goodies for the texas bunch on the way down and full of yard sale treasures on the way home. But I know you won't complain. Love ya, Memaw
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