Cheers!

I've always loved the term holiday when used to refer to time off. The word vacation conjures up memories of road trips, Coppertone, sandy feet and more. Fantastic! A holiday, though, is fabulous. Holidays are decadent, languorous, indulgent. Holidays are slowly sipped wine while the sun sets; vacations are beers drained on the beach. Holidays are sundresses and sandals; vacations are tank tops and flip-flops. Holidays are slowly prepared meals of richly layered flavors; vacations are drive-throughs and Sno-Cones. Vacations are fun, and I am a big fan of fun. But holidays are divine, and like most terms borrowed from the Brits, evoke a feeling of sophistication and refinement that "va-cay" can't touch. Today marks the beginning of a one-week chemo break. Much as I love to spend the summer slathered in oil, slurping down an ice-cold brew while the grill fires up, kicking off my flip-flops as soon my feet hit the sand, that's not in the plans this week. But ... I'm wearing a sundress and have cold mineral water bubbling in a glass. And as soon as I finish this post, I shall slip into my espadrilles, twist my hair into a chignon and put on my sunglasses. I'm headed to the Farmers' Market, where I will select the most fragrant fruit, the ripest vegetables and enough flowers to fill at least four vases. We are on holiday.