This is what I'm looking at as I'm writing this post:
Santa Claus brought Todd and I a February vacation for Christmas this year (betcha didn't know that Santa Claus is bald and bears a striking resemblance to a certain Communist dictator, did you?), so as we speak (or as I type and you read), I am sitting in a Tiki hut in Key Largo.
It feels so decadent. I don't think I've ever been on vacation in February before, but I could sure get used to it. We had a minor scare when the two pieces of luggage containing all the fishing poles and camping equipment were a bit . . shall we say, delayed. But it turns out they were only delayed, and were delivered to us last night, very little the worse for their unplanned trip to Philadelphia.
Todd is, contrary to popular belief, actually capable of relaxing:
But this morning he'd had enough of that whole 24 hours of relaxing and is off in a kayak with his newly reclaimed fishing poles.
Me? I'm chillin', here in my tiki hut, with my book and my knitting and my notebook and laptop. My one task is to make reservations for a sunset sailing trip with free champagne.
Ahhh . . . life is good.