Getting Back to My Roots

In a whirlwind of chance, my dad has decided, in spite of his cancer, to spend the Thanksgiving break down in Mexico. San Felipe to be exact.



I have to be honest, I am ecstatic! I love San Felipe. Our good friends the Taylors have a little house on the beach, and I've spent a good part of my childhood traveling to their beach shack for some of the greatest vacationing this redhead has ever known.

I still recall with fondness the time I ran a fence down with the quad, the time I hid a sand shark under our tent for like 5 days in the sweltering heat(sorry mom and dad), the time we broke down in that dirty border town for Thanksgiving(John, remember the squirts you got from those burritos), and of course the endless firework wars and disasters.


The Taylors Little House. It is nestled on top of a little hill, but you walk straight out to the beach.


It would be a sad, sad life to never taste the ambrosia created at Adriana's Fish Tacos. You can't put a price tag on taco pescados y camarones.


Building my own skim board for the great beaches.


And, of course, the view from the Taylor's house. I have visited a lot of places, but I've never been to a place as relaxing as this little haven. When you lay in one of the hammock being pushed by the warm sea breeze, the world stops for a sec and you finally find center.(I know this is cheesy).

So, anyway, for me this trip is getting me back to my roots.