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Some of my happiest memories as a kid involve a tent, bug spray, and a campfire. Now that I’m a parent, I understand how much work it actually takes to bring your family away from cozy beds, refrigerators, and showers to create all those special memories. It’s extra work for parents, but for me there’s no doubt it’s worth it.
I was raised on music. My parents met in the elevator on the way to band practice, so my very existence is inextricably linked to saxophones. My dad continues to play baritone sax to this day, and throughout my childhood I spent many midsummer nights at outdoor jazz concerts, the sound of cicadas drowned out by Satin Doll and Begin the Beguine.
It’s always difficult for me to return home after a vacation. I’m not the type of traveler who longs for her own bed and daily routine after a week or two. I’m the type of traveler who always dreads the end of a trip. I don’t mind re-wearing the dirty laundry (too much), the lumpy mattresses, or the unfamiliar streets and food. I like my everyday life, but sometimes re-entry can be rough.
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