Who's Gilbert Bag?

I think this must be some student in- house joke to which I'm not party.

Today was a day of lists.
Lists for food shopping for the weekend and beyond as we migrate over Easter to country places with few shops.

Lists of necessary items for the kitchen and bathroom for country places where you have to take your own.

Lists of clothing items to encompass a climate in these country places which may continue the current heatwave, pour with rain, feel cold like the arctic circle, or simply be the normal dull, damp and windy.

Lists of cycling paraphernalia to cope with the above weather in these country places.

I am dealing with the list of necessary items for the kitchen and bathroom and my own clothing list, while his Lordship has been dispatched to the supermarket with a list for food.

(I remember back in the dark ages when bank holidays were rigorously observed and shops were well and truly shut for the whole weekend. Then you could observe the little, apparently frail old ladies in Marchmont, Edinburgh, handbagging each other to get the last loaf of bread on the shelf. Elbows came into their own in a big way.
It isn't like this in the city now, but who knows what it's like in these far off country places)

His Lordship will cope with his clothes packing three hours before we leave at the weekend, and will of course forget something vital. It hardly ever fails. He should make a list like the rest of us.

With the list business under control, I am about to take Edinburgh Granddaughter to the local bike shop to have a look at what they can offer that weighs less than the one she currently has, that may well have been built in John Brown's shipyard, it is so heavy.

That's one less thing on my list.