Jeremy and I are leaving tomorrow morning for a week in California.
I won’t be blogging while I’m gone. We’re celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary (which is actually in May, but this seemed like a much more logical time to enjoy a change of weather.) Jeremy’s parents have flown in to stay with the kids.
While away, we will be staying with a generous friend/mentor/former boss named Jane and her husband Pierre in Huntington Beach. We will have dinner with another former boss/mentor/generous friend in West Hollywood. We will spend the night in Venice Beach with Jeremy’s cousins Colin and Megan and their partners.
The rest of the time? We will explore. We will drive our rented convertible down the coast to Jeremy’s birthplace, La Jolla. We will sit on the beach and read. We will play Farkle and Scrabble. We will soak in the sun and talk without the interruptions of daily life.
In May, I will write something more expansive about our 23 years together as a couple. For now, suffice it to say that I got very, very lucky because I met someone ideal for me at such a young age. And I am blessed that we both had the good sense to sign on for a lifetime of adventure together.
It certainly has been an adventure.
My family will appreciate the reference in this blog post’s title. The summer after Jeremy and I met (fall 1986) and fell in love (spring 1987, because it took him a very long time to actually ask me out, silly boy), I went on a family vacation to Prince Edward Island. I announced to my family that I was officially on vacation by putting a straw hat on my head and declaring:
Hear ye, hear ye, I am on vacation!
This was repeated many times throughout the trip, to the amusement of everyone. Amazingly, it still gets a laugh around the Hedricks.
Talk to you in a week.