I never went on vacations as a child, and now I just can't get enough of it. We went to the Cape last weekend. (I even bought a bathing suit just for the occasion.) The Flow was present once more. Gorgeous cottage. Gorgeous weather. Gorgeous girl. In no particular order... Went to the beach with the dog and lay in the sun for hours. Topless. (Don't worry, SPF 30 was involved.) Had the freshest seafood money can buy (and the great part is that it was cheap, at a little shack with picnic tables). Went to the flea market. Came home with an indian skirt/halter and miscellaneous items - no fleas. Went on a search party to find the dog, who escaped from the tree where he was tied up. He likes to go on walkabout. When we found him he just looked at me like, "But I'm not finished exploring yet!" The rest of the time he's a big baby. A big mama's boy. Whine, cry, whine, cry, if I can't be with my mommy. But when he goes exploring, he's like any teenage boy with his mother. See ya. I'll be in late. Don't wait up. Bought a new leash for him in Ptown, along with a glow-in-the-dark Buddha and more miscellaneous items. Made secret love in the loft. Slept in a master bedroom with one glass wall, a fireplace and lots of candles. Ate lunch looking over the ocean. Ran into absolutely no traffic (!) on the way home. I was born under a lucky star. I'm pretty sure about this.

I will write about this coming weekend, once it's over. It will be a good one. (It's my girl's birthday on Sunday and she doesn't know what I have planned.) :o)

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