From A Fine and Bitter Snow, the twelfth Kate Shugak novel:
The grin had faded, and Dan looked tired and for the first time since she’d known him every one of his forty-nine years. “When’s the last time you had a vacation?” she said.
He rubbed his face again. “I was Outside in October.” He dropped his hands and looked at her. “Family reunion.”
She snorted. “That’s not a vacation, that’s indentured service. I mean a real vacation, white sand, blue sea, drinks with little paper umbrellas in them served by somebody in a sarong.”
“Gee, I don’t know, that’d be about the same time you were there.”
“I don’t vacation,” Kate said, “I hibernate.”