The last two weeks of October turned out to be a perfect time for my vacation.

I stayed at a little place I know that boasts the most comfortable beds in the world. Situated on a tree-lined bike route with more bike trails nearby, it's also within easy walking or biking distance of art museums and galleries, theaters and superb concert facilities offering a broad range of top-notch musical performances. Equally close, for the less arts-minded, are football and other sports matches, parks, two libraries, a natural history museum and lots of great places to shop -- with tons more shopping available via buses that stop a few blocks away.

It's also within staggering distance of a number of bars featuring music ranging from metal-experimental to red dirt country, plus the occasional karaoke or stand-up comedy night. But if it's raining or I just don't feel like going out, there's a stack of CDs with the kinds of music I like, a library with lots of my old favorites and a mini-bar stocked with my brands -- which I can enjoy because I know I won't get stuck with huge charges for using it.

The kitchen, which never closes, turns out the kind of food I like, prepared just the way I like it, from the ginger preserves on my morning toast to the acorn squash with cornbread stuffing, to the homemade buttermilk ice cream that was to die for (maybe literally, considering the amount of heavy cream in it), and if I want a change, there are plenty of restaurants nearby. I always get the room I want, there's never any hassle about reservations, and children and pets are welcome.

Yup, you guessed it. I stayed home.

The "stay-cation" was popular this year, at least on the lifestyle wire where I read a number of how-to articles on it from people who didn't have a clue. They assumed the goal was to make staying at home as much like going away as possible. Load up your kids and camping gear in the car, they suggested, drive around the block a couple of times (presumably barking, "You kids settle down back there" a time or two for verisimilitude) and then go home and unload everything for a great camping adventure in your back yard.

Why? Why on Earth? You've gone through all the hassles of loading the car for no good reason, and a couple of circuits around the block won't fool anyone into thinking you're at Yellowstone. Why not just pitch your tent in the back yard and enjoy, or dig around in the couch cushions until you find enough money for gas to get you to Lake Thunderbird?

If you go to a posh hotel, do you toss a bedroll on the floor and pretend you're camping? If you go hiking in the mountains, do you carry along bags of sand so you can play like you're on the beach? If you go to London, do you pretend like you're in New York? No, you enjoy the advantages of the place where you are. And if you stay home, you can enjoy the advantages of home -- which are legion.

You don't have to pack, you don't have to unpack, and you don't have to hang your clothes in the bathroom in hopes that the steam from the shower will get rid of the wrinkles. You don't have to stand around in airports watching your shoes get X-rayed and hoping your luggage won't end up in Hong Kong. You don't have to stop the paper, board the dog or ask the neighbors to water your plants. You don't have to worry about whether you remembered to unplug the coffee pot. No kid will announce a need to "go" two minutes after you pass the "Last Restroom for 100 Miles" sign, and nobody will get carsick.

Need I go on?

I won't presume to give you a step-by-step plan for your own stay-cation, since I don't know what pleasures your home offers or what you like to do. But I do have a couple of suggestions gleaned from years of experience:

· It's a good idea to have a project if you are stay-cationing en famille. By magic, the project changes it in family lore from "the year we didn't go anywhere" to "the year we built the deck." It also provides structure for all that quality time, offers plenty of photo ops and gives the kids something interesting to write about in their back-to-school themes on "How I Spent My Summer Vacation."

The ideal project for a two-week vacation is something that sounds fun, looks impressive and could be done in a three-day weekend if everything went right. Everything never goes right, especially the weather. Either it's too uncomfortable to work outside very long, or it's so beautiful you have to knock off early and go to the park. You need to allow time for that.

· Plan some little luxuries, and dream a little. "If I were staying at the ideal bed and breakfast, there would be..." -- what? A flower on your breakfast table? And you've got flowers growing in the yard? A mint on your pillow? And a mint costs, what, a nickel?

Give it to yourself. You deserve it.