Winging it

So those who know me well, know that "winging it" is my pure definition of hell. I like my holidays planned and nothing becomes more annoying to me than having that little tap tap in the back of your mind all day on where you are going to lay your head that night. In my world this causes me to have to find somewhere in the early afternoon so I know that part is taken care of, essentially robbing me of good holiday time each afternoon.

But over the years my approach has been the source of much amusement to others so this trip I have decided to loosen the strings and wing it a bit, just to see whether I can push through this crazy barrier and just go with the flow knowing I won't actually be homeless for the night. So far so good, but there is a but....

My trip to the UK was for a set period of time and there were a number of places and people I wanted to see. To indulge myself a little I have decided tonight to plan out the next few days (old habits are hard to break) and to my absolute horror, I have discovered I am now so far behind I am not going to make it to Scotland!!!! Ach we lassies its is true, for the unwingable has made an error in judgment that has cost her a Cullen skink or two! She will nacht be imbibing of a fine whiskey on this trip and a haggis in all its glory has now slipped the grip. The Scots would ne'er make such an error! For that now, I must returns to the home ground of the good ole Rabbie Burns.

So while I will continue to wing it a bit, tomorrow I have a plan. I am heading to Liverpool to follow in the steps of the Fab 4 and to maybe take that Ferry across the Mersey. So when I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom. I am just going to let it be.Read more