Well ... uh ... must I say what a week this has been?
IT ROCKED!
Sorry for the long blog pause ... but godamighty with a new baby in the family, last week started off with a bang. And with his maternal family and paternal New Jersey family visiting, there was plenty of commotion at the "new baby house." Mike and I decided it would be great to give them all space. Let them spend lots of quality time with their new grandson. After all, the fact is, they'll all go back to Arizona and New Jersey ... and we'll have that little bugger all to ourselves.
So, for me, this week was time to ESCAPE! My best friend from Ohio, Tina, flew in. We left our husbands to fend for themselves and we escaped to Carolina Beach. To go clothes shopping, eat at our favorite restaurants, search for favorite authors at every bookstore in twelve counties, girl-talk from dusk to dawn, raid ice cream stands, eat pizza at midnight, drink wine in our bathrobes. We rolled the windows all the way down and drove to the beach with Gwen Stefani blaring ... yeah ... we escaped. A needed girlfriend week.
For five hours we basked on the beach. Covered with sea spray, our salty bodies soaked up Carolina Beach like two marinating chicken breasts. Smart enough to guard our middle-aged faces with plenty of sun block and the shade of a beach umbrella, we dug our feet into the sand and allowed our minds to drift. The sound of the ocean held us in captivity until the moment checked out of the hotel. A long needed visit ... we caught up.
The entire week will go down in history as that great girlfriend week Doesn't every woman need a week like that every now and then? Maroon Five, Faith Hill, Brooks & Dunn, Carrie Underwood and a whole plethora of music blared in our car as we rocked and rolled from one end of North Carolina to the other.
I needed a week off. From everything. Writing, phone calls, fifteen hour days at my computer, and time off from thinking about anything I didn't want to think about. We laughed until our sides ached. We cried. About things that shall forever remain private between two best friends. Tina and I have not only known each other since our late teens, we sat in the same church pew for many years. Both of us broke out of the same cult-church. We each have a horror story. And in many ways, Tina was my inspiration for the character of Shelby in my upcoming novel.
We share ... priceless memories.
I close my eyes and look into the distant future. I see us in our late 80s ... cool-looking, planting magnificent rows of vegetables and growing roses, herbs, and clematis in mass quanity. We'll wear straw hats to garden, blue jeans and flannel shirts. Our hair will fall in smart-looking braids or be cut in some chic style for the autumn of our lives. No perms or helmet hairdos, no way. We'll cook gut-busting great meals for our visiting families, drive our old Ford pickups into town for supplies, keep a farm together, tend the goats, dogs, and chase rabbits out of the pepper patch. Ride our horses over the property. Oh yeah. We'll still listen to classic rock, great country, and Gwen Stafani. At 85 and 90 we'll simply rock. Oh yeah. We'll drink fine wine and dance on our front porch ... in the sunset of our lives ... oh yeah.
We'll remember this past week fondly. "Hey, remember that time we drove to Carolina Beach and sang to the top of our lungs?"
"Yeah."
"Wanna go again?"
"Give me a minute to pack."
"I'm so done!"
"WHOO-HOO -- YEE-HOO ... IF I COULD ESCAPE AND RECREATE A PLACE THAT'S MY OWN WORLD ... "
................... all the way to the beach.
Blessings to you and yours!
So, for me, this week was time to ESCAPE! My best friend from Ohio, Tina, flew in. We left our husbands to fend for themselves and we escaped to Carolina Beach. To go clothes shopping, eat at our favorite restaurants, search for favorite authors at every bookstore in twelve counties, girl-talk from dusk to dawn, raid ice cream stands, eat pizza at midnight, drink wine in our bathrobes. We rolled the windows all the way down and drove to the beach with Gwen Stefani blaring ... yeah ... we escaped. A needed girlfriend week.
For five hours we basked on the beach. Covered with sea spray, our salty bodies soaked up Carolina Beach like two marinating chicken breasts. Smart enough to guard our middle-aged faces with plenty of sun block and the shade of a beach umbrella, we dug our feet into the sand and allowed our minds to drift. The sound of the ocean held us in captivity until the moment checked out of the hotel. A long needed visit ... we caught up.
The entire week will go down in history as that great girlfriend week Doesn't every woman need a week like that every now and then? Maroon Five, Faith Hill, Brooks & Dunn, Carrie Underwood and a whole plethora of music blared in our car as we rocked and rolled from one end of North Carolina to the other.
I needed a week off. From everything. Writing, phone calls, fifteen hour days at my computer, and time off from thinking about anything I didn't want to think about. We laughed until our sides ached. We cried. About things that shall forever remain private between two best friends. Tina and I have not only known each other since our late teens, we sat in the same church pew for many years. Both of us broke out of the same cult-church. We each have a horror story. And in many ways, Tina was my inspiration for the character of Shelby in my upcoming novel.
We share ... priceless memories.
I close my eyes and look into the distant future. I see us in our late 80s ... cool-looking, planting magnificent rows of vegetables and growing roses, herbs, and clematis in mass quanity. We'll wear straw hats to garden, blue jeans and flannel shirts. Our hair will fall in smart-looking braids or be cut in some chic style for the autumn of our lives. No perms or helmet hairdos, no way. We'll cook gut-busting great meals for our visiting families, drive our old Ford pickups into town for supplies, keep a farm together, tend the goats, dogs, and chase rabbits out of the pepper patch. Ride our horses over the property. Oh yeah. We'll still listen to classic rock, great country, and Gwen Stafani. At 85 and 90 we'll simply rock. Oh yeah. We'll drink fine wine and dance on our front porch ... in the sunset of our lives ... oh yeah.
We'll remember this past week fondly. "Hey, remember that time we drove to Carolina Beach and sang to the top of our lungs?"
"Yeah."
"Wanna go again?"
"Give me a minute to pack."
"I'm so done!"
"WHOO-HOO -- YEE-HOO ... IF I COULD ESCAPE AND RECREATE A PLACE THAT'S MY OWN WORLD ... "
................... all the way to the beach.
Blessings to you and yours!
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