I long for holidays. A break from the norm. But there is something strangely disconcerting about leaving your routines and structures behind. About putting work and friendships on hold for several weeks. About battling bad internet connections in coastal shacks. About having time but not the hobby paraphernalia to do things. Holidays tend to be a daze.
Of books and new worlds, films and music. Of kids learning how to be together and enjoy each other’s company. It is a hazy glaze like the hollandaise my man makes for birthday breakfast. 

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