Mike and I are making plans for the summer, and my cabin fever or spring fever or wanderlust or swine flu or whatever it is I’m suffering from seems to be getting worse.  My parents are currently at the very beginning of an almost 3 week stay on the Big Island of Hawaii right now, right in that beautiful part of the vacation when pretty much the whole thing is spreading out before you in an unbroken stretch of washing sand out from between your toes, drinking lilikoi margaritas, tossing your watch back in the suitcase without really even glancing at it, and wondering to yourselves what those poor saps back home would be doing right now, they’d probably just be getting in their cars to go to work right now but here WE are watching dolphins swim by not 10 feet from the edge of our deck, isn’t this the best vacation EVER?

We’re thinking of checking out the east coast, or maybe the west coast, or maybe San Francisco, or maybe just renting an adorable cottage in the middle of nowhere and spending the week reading and napping.  We can’t make up our minds, and we have no idea how much any of these options would cost or whether we could afford it, but we are both kind of feeling like tossing some sunscreen and a few changes of clothing into the back of the car and just hitting the ROAD, you know?