Ever get home from vacation and feel like you need another week off to recover? To shake that nasty virus you picked up? To unload your suitcases and wash all that dirty laundry? To run to the grocery store and restock the fridge you left on empty? To sort through that giant box of mail the post office held for you in search of the utility bill that should have been paid last Tuesday? To mow the lawn that somehow turned into a jungle while you were away? To actually get some rest? We’ve all been there, and I think you’ll agree: the Very Merry Land of Oz has its exotic charms, but ol’ Dorothy was onto something:
RUBY SLIPPERS
When I’m here, life is easy
The owners keep everything just the way I like it
Parking is free
and pets are always allowed
Snooze in a king-sized cloud
of feather pillows, under a cozy down comforter
Breakfast is anytime
Coffee is French press with cream
Marble tile and a deep bathtub
Epsom salts and bubbles invite a long, relaxing soak
Big desk for writing
High-speed internet to check e-mail
Lots of things to do nearby
Artsy boutiques, bookstores, coffee shops, movie house
A park with a pond
for the dogs to swim and play chase
Dinner is by candlelight
With bay window view of willow tree and brick garden
Or on patio island
ensconced in blooming flowers
Nooks and books for reading
Cable and all my favorite old movies on big screen TV
Lounging together
on broken-in leather furniture
Romance perhaps, then sleep
No need to set the alarm; there is no check-out time
No long drive home
because I am already there
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Love this Joan!!!
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Cute! A staycation can be lots of fun!
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I agree. However, when you’re retired, every day is a stay-cation. Sometimes you just have to get out of the house and see something different.
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I agree, but after a week or two, I’m ready for a post-vacation vacation at Home, Sweet Home.
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Yes, it’s true. There really is no place like home.
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Cute story. Sometimes it works 😊
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Love this! Can I come to your house for my next vacation? It sounds so lovely.
If I were to write a similar poem I’d use imagery of tumbleweed-sized hairballs rolling down the hallway and the fragrance of ancient dog. The “place where pets are free to poop” and a “Tarzan’s dream garden” . . .
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Maybe we could trade houses for 2 weeks. I think I’d feel right at home among the tumbleweeds and Eu de Canine. And not having to follow my dog around with pick-up baggies would be such a blessing. All that fertilizer probably helps Tarzan’s dream garden to grow even more wild. 🙂
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Nice. Makes me wanna stay in, get some Netflix, and chill.
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A lovely post Joan. Reminds me that even after the best vacations, I start to long for home – it’s just the way you like it 😀
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Exactly. After a week or two away, I breathe a sigh of relief the minute we pull into the driveway.
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