Push-Ups: Wasting Vacation Time on My Blog

Wake up in Tennessee. Fall asleep in Florida. That's how the Valdez Bunch is rollin' this month, courtesy of my hard-working husband and well-deserved recognition from his company. In fact, the Water Color Resort here on Santa Rosa Beach has become a mini-vacation paradise for several families from EmDeon: men and women on select teams who labored above and beyond the call of duty during the demanding process of transferring hardware and data from the old building to the new hub over the past year. It couldn't have happened to a nicer, and exhausted, group of folks.

We had the option of either paying for our own gas in the guzzling Yukon and arriving uneventfully in a timely manner, OR riding in a comfy tour bus, waiting 40 minutes past the 'enforced' departure time for a tardy traveler, enjoying naps and free food along with a dad who wasn't navigating, finding ourselves on an unexpected detour when one of the bus drivers took a wrong exit, suffering through not just ONE but TWO showings of "Beverly Hills Chihuahua," witnessing a horrible horse-trailer accident where the emergency personnel were busy trying to lift out a dead horse, and pulling into the resort two hours late and listening to the woman who created half of the LATE situation complain that we were late while we stood in a long winding registration line as smiling hostesses offered up lovely rare tuna and crab cake appetizers. Monty, we choose what's behind curtain B! So much more story-worthy . . .

THE EAGER-TO-VACATION VALDEZ WOMEN

PASSING CARS UP HIGH

BUS RIDERS

MY BOY IN A GRINNING MOMENT

NOTHING SAYS RELAXED LIKE THE CLASSIC YAWN,
HERE CHARMINGLY MODELED BY ASHLEY

SLUMBERING SARAH -- SLEEP IS HER CRAFT

Though I began missing my wonder pup, Hank, Hankerdoodle, or as Ashley calls him -- Love Bug, the moment his dog sitter whisked him away to a canine paradise of wide open grassy fields on the outer edge of town, I knew he would be in more than capable hands in my absence.

HOW COULD I NOT MISS THIS MUG?

SAYING FAREWELL FOR THE WEEK TO MY BABY BOY!

NO, HE DOESN'T HAVE A LINGERIE FETISH,
YOUNG MICHAEL IS DELIVERING LEMON CURD
AND HOMEMADE SCONES FROM ME TO HIS MOTHER.

MICHAEL CLARK, PUPPY WHISPERER

I DO BELIEVE THE MY WILLOW TREE HAS WAITED FOR YEARS
TO SHADE YOUNG HANK THE WONDER PUP!

But my train of thought is wrecked . . . my first morning in Florida is up and at 'em . . . the chit'luns are finally awake. And they're begging their mama to head for the beach. The hubby is out early, swinging metal and wood clubs at little white balls with his co-workers; the boy already had himself a bike ride with the boss' sons; I've exercised my mildly OCD ways with a flurry of activity about the condo: organized the luggage, created a recycling station in the kitchen, and opened the balcony doors to usher in the cool sea air. An extended wandering walk of discovery awaits me on the other end of a shower and granola with flax meal. My eating on this trip has thus far been greatly influenced by my PMS state; based on the Pringles, pizza, popcorn, Raisinets, grapes, 1 1/2 sandwiches, cheese crackers, jelly beans, seafood hors d'oeuvres, raspberry scones, and lemon-lavender biscotti of yesterday, I'd say those unexplained lost pounds of this past month, whereby all my clothing falls loosely at my hips, may soon find their way back to me!