I woke up this morning, fired up the MacBook and checked my email, finding the weekly fare sale bulletin from AirTran. Now, most of the time I ignore these emails; there are five of us and pretty much everywhere we want to go, we’ll drive. Lately, though, I’ve been almost obsessive in watching for deals because Honey and I are planning an anniversary trip.
This will be our first vacation sans kids since the baby was born (she’ll be three in October), and will mark our 10th wedding anniversary. I think we’ve spent as much time talking about it as getting to the milestone! Planning a trip is tough when two people want different things out of a vacation:
Me — Fun! Shopping! Shows! Stuff to do!
Honey — Peace and quiet.
Once we determined that I was planning the trip, I gave my husband a list of possible destinations (so he could have the appearance of some say in the process): Boston, Chicago, Las Vegas, NYC, Washington, D.C. He immediately struck New York and D.C. off the list (we’ve been there before). He’s been to Vegas and didn’t think it was really where he wanted to go for this trip. I picked up a Fodor’s guide to Chicago, to get a feel for what was there, and knew it was the place to go. (Right now the plan is to take our eldest to Boston for Spring Break next year to visit colleges.)
And now we have our airline tickets!
I still need to book a hotel, and there are some itinerary things I need to work out. But we are well on our way to winging it to Chicago. Which leads to my other “flighty” topic of the day …
We came home from running Friday morning to a rather unusual discovery in the front yard:
A robin’s nest! How do I know? Because I found eggshells in the grass near the nest. It was interesting to see it up close, identifying little bits of mud and trash that likely came from our yard (including bits of a dryer sheet). I don’t know how it ended up on the ground or where the birds are (and I’m really trying not to think foul play was involved). I’d like to think the baby bird grew big enough to fly away and build a nest of his/her own. It makes me think of the nest emptying we’ll begin in just a couple of years. Bittersweet.