I should always feel this great the day after a vacation.

Two years ago on our anniversary Z and I went to a really cool resort in British Columbia called Point No Point on Vancouver Island. (I found it by doing various searches on the coast using "hot tub" and "remote" as search terms.) We told our pals C and T all about it, and last winter they reminded us that we'd agreed to all go back there together. (This is the time in our lives where we must make good on all NW dreams and plans, so, off we went to celebrate Z's birthday.) It was fantastic and amazing and beatutiful... and I got sick. T and I BOTH got sick, actually. She was symptomatically about 6 or 8 hours ahead of me, so I could glimpse the future of my respiratory passages just by looking at her next to me in the backseat. We bought some whiskey for medicinal purposes, though and kept a hanky with us at all times (even in the hot tub) and generally did just fine.

(Please note, w/ almost no exceptions, Zak took almost all of these photos.)
We climbed a hill at Deception Pass and saw a big old bird who wouldn't come back to say hello.
 

We saw some of those succulent plants that are always in the "Native Plants" part of the store here, and I've never believed actually belonged. Oops.
 

I ate an expertly cooked omelet.
 

C and I lost a hacky sack in the jungle almost immediately. More to come very shortly... I actually have to go back to work.