Four. More. Days.

I have a nice healthy to-do list sitting on the table next to me as we speak, yet all I want to do is pack and plan for vacation. Sure, my floors have a visible film on them and my laundry is begging to be put away. Yes, as a matter of fact that IS dog hair on every couch pillow we own, but I just can't seem to move myself toward a lint roller. sigh...

Four. more. days. I just need to get my lists done for 4 more days. Then we're off to pure serenity. We will enter into yesteryear where everyone in town knows everyone in town and cell phones are seen as over doing it. Our fridge and stove will be the perfect shade of 50's aqua and our walls will be thick smooth logs. Our days will be filled with floating, fishing, magazine flipping and ice cream licking. Our view will be nothing but sparkling lake and whispering trees and the noises will be nothing more than buzzing bees, kids squealing in water and great-aunties chatting in their ever-floating rafts.

Yep. 4 more days and the dog hair and dust won't matter. 4 more days of just us and pure bliss.