Triumphant return.

fronds against the sky

cactus plus ocean = kind of like buttered toast on a falling cat's back

Why yes, we are back from Cabo! Was seeing the "books read" column grow by a few inches your clue? Or perhaps you actually heard me weeping into the constant cold rain that fell ceaselessly upon our return. Ahh, I know what it was. You heard my squeal of bliss when Charlie handed me a hot cup of coffee fixed exactly how I like it: sweet and strong and with a touch of cream and stirred by him in our kitchen.

another memorable dinner at Pancho's

We're back. It was a long week of relaxing. While Charlie busied himself frolicking in the pool, watching soccer games, and chasing Isaac about I made very good friends with the shade. The pool attendants raised a few eyebrows at me, covered in a long skirt and hat and sunscreen and a sarong sometimes over my shoulders, reclined in the shade and knitting. Most people were sporting bikinis and pina coladas and raising their bronzed faces to the sun. I was trying my best not to become sunburnt and having a glorious time working on a pair of opera-length fingerless gloves. When I wasn't knitting I was reading or chatting with friends or planning what to eat next.

gloves begin

What I ate next usually involved ceviche. I sampled it everywhere. Enough intense lime to make you squint like a pirate. Or perhaps a mix of delicately shredded lettuce wound around the fresh fish. The most memorable version was spiked throughout with strips of intense fresh habanero. Charlie found a delicious bottle of anejo tequila and we worked our way through the entire thing (while sharing with friends, of course) over the course of the week.

borrowing favored baby

Charlie engages in this year's entertainment: Hat Wars

We sat outside the hotel bar and played board games with friends. The moon hung fat and creamy and bursting, barely propped up on the ocean's horizon until it found the energy to rise. If you were quiet for just a moment, you would hear someone laugh. During the day it was one of the many many kids in our families enjoying the sunshine and water, and at night it was the lower confidential laugh of a parent out past their bedtime. When that many of us travel together, it turns into a sort of a tribe. Babies are passed from arm to arm and the kids end up in a coltish mass, roiling around the edges of any group.

In the past if someone told me that every year they went on a vacation with the people they work with, I would have winced and politely wished them the best. But now, with year after year passing by and watching friends grow and change and always having that week to look forward to where there is no work to do and games become fun again and there is a great exhalation of all of the tensions of the year, all against the susurration of the ocean, that is the best.

farewell dinner