Packing for holiday: clothes or books?

We go to Cornwall on Saturday. The weather looks good for the coming week, and The Daughter says the sea is as warm as the Mediterranean, sending me a link to a local website in case I needed proof. Actually, last weekend's newspaper told us the weather was gorgeous and had photos of dolphins showing off to the tourists, so here's hoping...  

I have chosen The Holiday Book: The Dog Stars, by Peter Heller. It didn't take me long to choose - I was won over by the recommendation on the front cover: 'A dreamy, post-apocalyptic love letter to things of beauty.' My favourite genre, I am running out of bleak-but-hopeful books to read, so it was good to find a new one. Actually, just now looking at the book on Amazon, I've read through the 'people-who-bought-this-also-looked-at' bit, and have managed to add another dozen books to my Amazon wish-list.

There is just one problem - I have no will-power when it comes to books, and after promising myself I would save the book for holiday, I am now on page 93. So I'll also take Flight Behaviour, by Barbara Kingsolver and The Border Trilogy, by Cormac McCarthy with me. Rather thick books, they leave me room for not much more than a pair of jeans and a camera. 

I received the certificate for the RE course through the post yesterday. I keep all my certificates in a big file which I only tend to look through when I'm desperately hunting for lost birth/marriage certificates. Half the time I can't even remember doing the courses (did I really do that course on ADHD? I don't remember a word of it). My degree certificate will be different of course. I shall frame that so the last four years of slog will be worth something. Mind you, The Husband may just see it as the big hole in our bank account, so better not. 

So... getting ready for our holiday. We have a larger car this year, and less people to take (no girlfriends of sons or other hangers on), so the journey should be more comfortable. It's a fairly long journey (six hours driving, plus approximately two hours' queuing to get into Cornwall - usually resulting in cheers as we crawl past the county sign at five miles an hour). It necessitates a couple of stops at service stations which charge the earth for a cup of coffee, so we tend to fill the car with drinks, biscuits, packets of sweets and other healthy things. It's amazing how hungry you get, watching scenery and hankering after other peoples' cars. Son Number One usually manages to get just past Mildenhall before starting on his lunch, even though he's reminded that he only had breakfast twenty minutes earlier. And there's a limit to the number of Costa Coffee signs I can drive past without complaining. Really, it's a wonder The Husband doesn't just leave us on the side of the road. At least the children are past the age of needing the toilet every half hour. And being car sick - that was a joy of a phase: washing out children's t-shirts in the hand basins of the public toilets, or carrying a half-naked child through town so I could buy clothes to replace the ones I'd had to bin. Happy days...   

And now I will go back to constantly refreshing my OU webpage, in the hopes that my assignment has been marked. My tutor is moving house in a few days, she said, so aims to get all essays returned asap. Then it's just two more assignments to go, and that course is finished. I'm looking forward to the religion and controversy one. We've been told to keep a look out for when religious issues appear in the news. That'll be 24 hours a day, then. 

Enjoy your summer - I'm off to pack some books.