Coming home

I love going on vacation, and I love coming home from vacation.
I recently spent three weeks in Mexico, in a cabana on the beach. It was great, and I'm happy to be home. Why?
At home I can do laundry. Everything I had taken with me was damp and smelled of sea salt. I didn't actually unpack. What I did was throw everything directly from the suitcase into the washing machine. From there, it went out to the clothes line to freshen in the spring air. I must have done at least 15 loads of laundry, which included all the laundry that accumulated while I was gone.
At home I can take a fresh water shower. The cabanas had showers in them, but the water was straight from the ocean, salt water. Imagine spending a day on the beach. You're hot and sticky from swimming in the salt water ocean. You're lightly sunburned and looking forward to a fresh shower. You step out of the shower and are refreshed for about a minute, then you realize the water was salt water. Your hair is still sticky and never really dries. Your skin is sticky and now drying out from the salt. You apply tons of lotion, which doesn't help.
At home I can eat something other than guacamole. The restaurants were good, and I don't want to look at guacamole for at least a month. Sure, the guacamole was tasty, but with every meal? Same goes for salsa, chips and refried beans. The culinary hit of my journey was the french toast at TreceLunas, a cafe run by a Canadian woman. There was also one restaurant that served pizza. Not American pizza, but it was wood fired and tasted great.
At home I can sleep without mosquito netting. The mosquitoes in Mexico are smaller than Wisconsin mosquitoes. But they are like terrier mosquitoes, they don't quit. I am still scratching bites on my arms. If you are by the ocean in the breeze, it's okay. If you venture into the jungle, which is only a few steps away from the ocean, you are fresh meat for the hordes.
At home the nights are cool. Mexico days are hot and sunny, and Mexico nights are hot and dark. With no electricity in the cabanas, there was no air conditioning, or even a ceiling fan.
At home the horses are fat and healthy. I had a chance to see some horses while in Mexico. They were thin, bony and also plagued by the heat and bugs. I felt bad for them, but not everyone has access to the open grasslands and perfect horse weather of Wisconsin. It made me grateful for the home my horses have.

After all this, you may think that my vacation wasn't a good one, but it really was. I was not at work. I didn't wear a watch. I played in the ocean and sunned on the beach. I salsa danced on the beach one evening and had grand adventures at ruins and cenotes. I was in excellent company with 35 of my very best friends from all over the world. And I'm glad to be home.