Testing . . . one, two, three. Is this thing on?
It's always amazed me that in the high heat of summer people schlep off to the beach to roast themselves even more. I mean, you complain about the heat and humidity where you live and then decamp where the main activities include lying on the ground with only a towel beneath you and the sun glaring overhead. It's just like the folks who cursed the weather gods for Snowmageddon then complained when there wasn't enough fresh new powder on the slopes of their choice for the ultimate skiing experience.
By all accounts, most Americans aren't able to jet off to the Chilean mountains in August or to Phuket for Christmas. Most of us scrimp and save for years to afford our dream vacation. As a child, I remember a big jar for spare change that we dubbed our New York jar. I think we saved for six years to be able to pay for a trip to New York City in which we drove to avoid airfare, used a half-off coupon from the Entertainment Book to pay for the hotel, and ate early-bird dinners at a reduced cost.
My children don't know how fortunate they are. In 24 hours, we'll be leaving for our family holiday. Finally, I'll feel like a jet-setter heading off to different climes. The Weather Channel reports that the high will be 79°. After two plus weeks of 90+° temps here, we'll need jackets for the cooler nighttime temperatures with lows in the mid-50s.
Passports? Check. Tickets? Check. Itinerary? Check. Walking shoes? Check. Dress for theatre? Check. House sitter? Check.
Where are we bound? Scotland and England! Where else would the Gaelic family go?
The Battle is NOT Yours
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