In which she praises “staycationing.”

It’s a horrible neologism, but I’m loving the concept. I’m smack in the middle of nine straight days off work. Look, I made this:

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It’s a child’s T-shirt (made by the underpaid garment workers of Old Navy), decorated with the help of my trusty digital cutter & my iron. The tree trunk is a freezer-paper stencil, the leaves & deer are flocked iron-ons – drawn with the drawing program on my iPad, cut with the digital cutter. The deer is heavily based on an image from the endpapers of a children’s poetry book I had as a child, still floating around just barely in one piece. I wouldn’t sell something that closely based on another artist’s image (unless it’s from pre-1923; then all bets are off), but I will happily use it for gifts. Which this is. I made three, actually – one for the Bean, one each for two little girls who turn five this summer and fall, and whom I regard as extended family.

This whole business where you actually have time, occasionally, to ask yourself, What do I feel like doing next? and then do it… and time to follow through on a project… I could get used to this. I’ve been busy in the kitchen, too. In the past three days, I’ve made crepes, pizza dough, and blueberry muffins, among other things.

I want to do this again. Regularly. We originally blocked off this time to visit family, but then we added a puppy to our household & didn’t feel ready to leave him with a petsitter. So we stayed home. And it’s wonderful. Visiting family is great, and it’s a huge blessing to live close enough to both sets of parents/grandparents that we can visit. But this, just being at home, puttering along on things, undertaking little expeditions, doing art and playing hide-and-seek and reading books, this is filling up something inside of me that I didn’t realize had gotten low.

I’m going to look seriously at using some of my vacation time and comp time to block off a solid week of home time, at least two or three times a year. This is good for me. For all of us, I think.

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