You're probably used to my yearly proclamations that come this time of year - "We're going on vacation so don't get all 'Where the fuck are you?' and what not because I'll be back in a week to show you photos of my flip-flop tan from some beach whoknowswhere" - right?
Did you follow all that?
Well, it's my way of creating something of a segue for this year's Vacation is Here So I'm Peacing Out For a Week post even though there aren't any beaches involved. At least none that will win me a flashy new flip-flop tan. And there's barely any peacing out either because, well, we're not going anywhere that requires a flight, long drive, or more than a sack lunch.
And that is because Bubba and I, with an exciting and out of character early fall trip, are foregoing our beaching for a nice, restful...try not to barf or hate me when I say this...staycation. Or, StayVacay as I've called it. Or, Food, Booze and *censored* as Bubba's called it.
So far, it's been all of those things plus some other things like Eating Our Tomatoes At Every Occasion instead of coming home from, say, Costa Rica, to find that the plants have gone into full production as soon as I left the house and Taking a Million Pictures of Hummingbirds We Didn't Know We Had since we actually had time to set my big camera up with his giant lens on the tripod to capture these flying piglets draining the feeder.
It's different, this staying home for vacation. So far I extra love that I get to sleep in my own bed, which is a fancy thing that I miss a lot on vacations, and riding my own bike when we go out for shopping or getting tacos or refilling the bar at the booze store.
Of course, there are some downers - most notable being the personal realization that it's not actually my piss-poor packing that forces me to wear the same clothes every day while I'm on vacation (at least on the beach ones) but instead, my own laziness because don't you know that here I am on the 4th day of our vacation wearing much the same thing I've worn for the last few days without any intention of changing that.
I guess I'm gross. Or lazy. Or without the desire to do laundry. Which I've been told is a major no-no of staycationing (barf. I just barfed from that.) and since it doesn't seem to interfere with the *censored* portion of our staycationing (I still shower, don't be nasty.) I figure it's somerthing that's proved successful whether we're on the water in Maui or hanging out on our patio at home in NorCal.
So yeah, picture that, Bubba and I wearing our ratty best, drinking cocktails and picking tomatoes while we stare at the bird feeder, intermittently read our books, cook recipes that have been sitting around waiting for attention, ride our bikes every old place because hell, we have the time and then maybe, when we get restless, going off fishing or climbing at a new place within a morning's drive so that we can feel like we did something. Plus, you know we'll make a beach run because what is a vacation without some play time for the dog. And, of course, a beach. Even a cool, foggy NorCal type beach where you wear more clothes than you would at home and leave with purple lips and red toes.
I might blog a bit while we're dicking around here, especially if the garden does something incredible or I cook something incredible (Tomato Pie is on the docket for tonight, so incredibility is inevitable) or Bubba catches a huge trout that requires ample blog real estate to properly appreciate.
Otherwise, I might be missing from the blog for a few days but don't panic because you know I'll come back with a few salty stories to get you back up to speed on the minutia of my week's break from work.
Until then, I'll be here.