This is why you should never leave home

Travel. Pffft. Whatever. Expensive, annoying, and overrated. Stay home and live your life already.

As mentioned in the last post, Phrodaux and I recently returned from our annual pilgrimage to the sun.Vitamin D therapy aside, maybe we just should have stayed home. Why? We are so glad you asked.

* Travel is no fun. First, we're up BEFORE 4 AM to get to the airport on time, after a night of checking the clock to make sure we didn't oversleep (as in, we really didn't sleep at all). The departing plane leaves late, after many less than helpful updates from the captain ("Well, folks, the second engine just won't turn over." "OK folks, looks like they found a kink in the line..." and so on). Arriving late for a tight connection leads to one of the Fairy Queen's least favorite activities in the world, sprinting through a terminal to be one of the last five people on the only plane that goes to Zihuatanejo every day, arriving at her seat out of breath and anxious, to be greeted by the stink eye of the entitled breeder army who thought they could take over her precious aisle seat for the toddler they did not bother to buy a ticket for.

* And while we're ranting: Alaska Airlines, you knew that connection was too tight. You did. And yet you set it up that way anyhow. Because you, less than lovely Alaska Airlines scheduling people, were not going to be the ones with no worldly goods for the first 48 hours of your vacation. Because of course the suitcase did not make the plane we ran for. Suffice it to say that one t-shirt is not enough in a hot climate. But also that Queen Tina of Casa Kitty will always find you a toothbrush and a bottle of shampoo.

* Even when travel IS lovely (see previous post), you're not HOME. And Phrodaux and I are poster children for homebodiness (look at me, I invented a word). Quoting Phrodaux: We bought property so we could avoid getting on airplanes.  Honestly, if we could be here, why do we go away???

The problem is, the farm does not look like this right now. It looks gray and damp and in some places a little floody (another story). In the middle of winter, the FQ wants to feel like this:

But that doesn't happen at the farm until August. Or maybe even Labor Day. That drinking straight from the bottle of Cava might have been induced by the thought of going back to work. Though she loves her job. Honest. But this might be a digression.

ANYWAY

* At home you can MAKE things. Or at least, we do. All the time these days. This week started with pizza,

Vietnamese rice salad and pan bagnat, included a mid-week stop for homemade ricotta and granola (two separate dishes, promise), and culminated with a big dumpling adventure, courtesy of our friend the cutest chef ever, Jenn Louis. If you live in PDX, go to Lincoln already. Or at the very least, go eat a friend chicken sandwich at Sunshine Tavern. I know it's bad for you. Eat it once a year and you'll be fine. Somewhere in the ether of the tubes is a picture of our fancy ricotta and kale dumplings. But the name is pretty too:

And speaking of making things, you all made stuff for xmas presents, right? I mean, honestly, do any of us need any more stuff? We do not. You have 11 months. Get cracking. Here's what we did this year. Steal if you need to:

Pear ginger preserves. There was also raspberry jam, sour cherry jam, pickled cauliflower, pickled beets, pickled apples & onions, pickled cherries, pickled asparagus, 5 gallons of dill pickles (!!! That was Phrodaux!!!), ketchup, hot sauce, hmm, something else...I forget.

Chile powder, ground from the chiles we grew and dried. Test tube stands made by Phrodaux. Tear gas incident during chile grinding survived by all.

  * On travel vacations (as opposed to hunker down at home vacations), there are NO DOGS. Or, rather, there are tons of dogs - random beach dogs and I-checked-my- papers-at-immigration traveling dogs and street dogs who stretch across the road and play chicken (and win!) with the cars and trucks and taxis. But none of these are OUR dogs. They go to grandma camp when we travel, where they play with Westie cousins and get baths and trims. It is hard for us to be without them. They would love our Mexico beach vacation, but it would be a terrible idea to take them there. Mo in particular would bark at every dog, cat, person, lizard, bird and possibly wave. We would never actually relax.

Bird? Wave? LIZARD?

Nubie in MOTION!

It's really good to be home with them.

Home. That's the point, really. We like to go away, for a little while. Then we get itchy - after about 2 days - and we want to be home. Now we are. All is well.

This is why you should travel

Phrodaux and I are just back from our annual winter Vitamin D therapy trip, a week of sun, ocean swimming, fish tacos, and tequila. It's going on 10 years now that we've headed across the border (way across) for a rejuvenating week. We highly recommend it, for a number of reasons:

* Relaxation: If you stay home, you'll do stuff. Really. You'll say that you are just going to take it easy and relax and before you know it, all contents of the linen closet are on the floor and you are organizing. Or something breaks and there is no concierge to call. And the phone rings and the cupboard is bare and you have to do stuff. That is not relaxing.

 

Don't forget to wash your feet!

Instead, imagine this blissful routine:

1. Roll out of bed and go get coffee, barefoot. On the way, admire the tropical garden (and many cats - but that's a different story).
   
2. Enjoy coffee in hammock while listening to waves.
3. Eventually eat a little breakfast in a palapa-roofed dining room without walls.
4. Head to the beach chair you've staked out. Read, nap, watch waves.
5. When you have the energy for it, walk on the beach, swim in the warm ocean, and poke around the tidepools.
6. Return to beach chair. Rest up after all that exertion.
7. At some point, rinse the sand off and go have lunch. Aguachile and a margarita. Or shrimp tacos and a bottle of Victoria, lime and salt on the side.
8. Nap.
9. Repeat steps 4, 5, 6, rinse again, meet your sweetie for sunset margaritas.
10. Have dinner in a restaurant without walls but very possibly with children, dogs, lizards, and hammocks. Oh, and amazing food (chile rellenos, chicken mole, coconut shrimp, you get the picture).
    
11. As you stagger home, consider stopping for gelato. FQ always orders lemon, Phrodaux knows better and gets coconut. FQ samples his and says, "Oh, that's better." Every time.
12. Sprawl out on the bed, watch some old TV show, fall asleep full and calm and warm and peaceful.

That, my friends, is why you travel. You will never do so little at home.

 But wait, there's more!

* Wildlife encounters: This trip alone, we saw whales and dolphins swimming by, a big iguana in the iguana tree and little ones munching on leaves next to our lunch table, a baby crocodile, a puffer fish, all sizes & shapes of crabs, urchins and anemones, pelicans, butterflies, an assortment of beach dogs, and an army of cats.

Some years the wildlife is even more exotic: an armadillo in our garden!

Baby turtles are hatching! Good thing there are a lot of them...what with the gulls, the dogs, the waves, and the clueless people, it's hard to get on out to the ocean blue if you're a baby tortuga!

* We never thought we'd say this (being misanthropists and all), but vacation friends are a factor. Here's to you, crazy multi-time zone girls and house of Canadians. In hideous Eugene, OR for a garden thing we met one half of the NYC Fab Twins, our beloved MV. A couple of years later in upstate NY for Fab Twin MV's major birthday shindig, we met our LA pals, the mogul & his mate (pseudonym someday), folks who have become major parts of our lives. Weird but true.

So, tiny little sweet peas, the moral of this story is: Leave home once in a while. Pick a nice place. Go there and chill. Get some color in your cheeks (everyone will remark on it when you get back to normal life). Enjoy more than 7 hours of daylight at the turning of the year. Take a nap. Walk right out into the ocean. Eat one more taco than you think you should because the restaurant owner's abuela made those tortillas right there, over the fire.  Send us a postcard.