This is not our fault

Our little clan started as relative nomads–seven homes in the first six years, I think–so it’s no surprise that  a sedentary life might have its consequences.

But a wanderlust has been haunting our house for months (maybe years).  It’s not a scary haunt; more like a friendly, “I saw it on the landing, waving at me” kind of poltergeist.  You know it won’t hurt you, but it gives you butterflies in your stomach, nonetheless.  Because you know your partner just might take the bait.

Mo or I will often tease the other: “Let’s move to Idaho and eat what we grow”.  (A friend once used this exact phrase to describe his frustration with life.)  We laugh every time we say it , but deep down we know there’s something to it.  We’ve “fed the beast” with a trip to Disney here, a camping trip there.  But it wants more … it always wants more.

When Maureen began researching travel books on Costa Rica, I knew immediate action was necessary.

“Let’s take a month off,” I said.  The look in her eyes said (as the movie quote goes): “You had me at ‘hello'”.

So here we go…

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