Hello again.

I am back from vacation and feeling fine. A catastrophe of major proportion did not implode my career, my house or the city during this absence. We journeyed to our favourite Island and literally lived on the beach for more than 2 weeks. The kids cried when we left for home.

While we were away:

we watched the sunset a lot,

we had three legged races and slept in the hammock,

we made s'mores and s'mores and

the not husband and his friend risked their lives and then

we watched sadly as their beautiful sailboat crashed into the rocks and

we caught frogs and a salamander and

ducked our heads from the disoriented bats swirling above in the rafters

and swam and floated and splashed and

washed our clothes in the bay and hauled water to the cottage for dishes

and ate by candlelight and drank champagne and

had a talent show and walked to the beach and back

one hundred times and applied sunscreen over and over and over

and drove to the store to buy ice everyday to keep our food cold and our

tummies full and barbecued and laughed and boggled and

crushed limes for caipirinhas and dug a big hole that

will some day be our outhouse and burned out many batteries

in the flashlights that took us to and from the bonfires where we

sang and talked and took turns enjoying ourselves and watching

the beautiful sleeping children and after several days of waiting

we watched a spectacular chrysalis become a beautiful monarch butterfly

(and if you haven't witnessed this you must put it

on your list of things to do before you die)

and mostly we felt grateful that we are so

lucky to have so much and to get by at the cottage with

so little.

And still, it's nice to be home.