Thirteen

There's something to be said about getting away. Even though the rhythm of our day hasn't been dramatically different than being at home, there's a decadent quality about being in plush surroundings that gives you license to slow down everything. Being at home is always about looking at a never ending list of things that have to get done and even when I completely ignore that list, there's still a domestic agenda vibe, this relentless humming I can't quite escape which might be the guilt of ignoring that to-do list.
So today we took a long walk around the town, great walking trails around some ponds (big honkin' alligator alert), got my hair trimmed, had a Japenese lunch, another walk, stopped for a proper pot of tea and a raspberry creme brulee cheesecake (OMG!!), napped, checked out the tasting festival in the town square and had dinner at the hotel restaurant.
Around 9pm while we were finishing dinner, the fireworks started. We were done with dinner about ten minutes later and told the host we would be back. We were going to watch the show.
The sad thing is, we were the only ones who left the dining room. There were two other tables, both parties of four, at the end of their meals, and they didn't leave. How can you get to a point in your life where you can miss a fireworks display? A Disney sponsored one at that. Cal and stood outside, arm in arm, looking up at the sky. I have to say now that I have nothing, absolutely nothing in my descriptive toolbag to offer when talking about fireworks. I suppose it's what happens when laughter and pyrotechnics converge. But what I love the most is that everyone always has the same expression, a mixture of awe and envy because we're all thinking, "Man, I wish I had that job!"