When I'm at home, and I'm staring the four walls down? When we've had mac-n-cheese for the fourth time in a week? When my kids are moving between a whole three rooms (kitchen, living room, and their bedrooms) for days on end?
I just long for vacation. Doesn't have to be fancy. Or expensive. Or full of bells and whistles. It just has to be away. And I long for it.
The change in scenery. Being around family. Seeing new things. Sleeping in a bit. Swimming twice a day. Lovely meals that involve bbq and homemade bread. (drool) I can't quite put my finger on it (wink wink), but I just want to soak it up like a biscuit with gravy. Mmmmm. Bread.
The only trouble? AB couldn't come with. Not just yet. It's a two-week get-away, but he could only manage to get one week away from work and directing responsibilities. So we came early and have been enjoying our time. He'll join us next week and we'll stay for another week.
Are you enjoying your summer? Or are the days slipping by in an endless parade of "it's too hot to do anything" or "it's not hot enough to do anything?"
I can tell you that where we are it's humid enough to make you want to slap your mama.
Oh, and I'm burning all my bathing suits at the end of summer. Or tomorrow. Whenever the disgust takes over - I'm lighting the fire, baby.
And homemade bread, it turns out? Highly warm and highly addictive in the crack-cocaine family of addiction. And crack is whack.
Bonus note? My son is spending the night with his Aunt, Uncle, and two cousins. And you wanna know something? That makes me so happy for
me him, that I want to run outside and sing something about the hills being alive...
except for the fact that I'm too busy being lazy and eating bread. Stop. You don't understand. I can quit whenever I want to.
Oh, and know what else? We're in the hills/mountains/river country. And before we could go swimming tonight, I had to fish the dead frogs out of the pool that had drowned. Yes. I did. And it was dis-freaking-gusting. But we swam anyway, which is a little bit more disgusting, no?
And talking about that makes me want comfort, which leads me to want a piece of the homemade bread.
What? I'm quitting. Tomorrow....