Me and my friends were due a vacation, no doubt. All of us were plum wore out from our day jobs and various life dramas that seem to crawl out of the woodwork at the blink of an eye. Back in March we started to plan a visit to that beach in Florida where the sand is white and the water is bluish green. My babygirl was due to graduate from college so we plotted to escape from reality as soon as the tassels got turned. Nothing does a body good more than sand and surf, if you know what I mean. One of our party threw a hissy fit when the decision was made to leave the next day, but that's a whole 'nother story for a different time.
We all headed out from different locations before dawn on Sunday morning, traveling from Tennessee through Mississipi and Alabama down to the gulf coast of Florida. The car I traveled in was packed to the gills with coolers, chairs and clothes that we never wore outside of bathing suits, shorts and t-shirts. Being the touristy type, we also purchased a few more from that place where you can get your picture made with the alligators.
Our house was fully loaded with all of the luxuries that make home away from home even BETTER than home, right down to the screened in front porch where I sat my happy butt most of the week in the wicker rocker under the ceiling fan. And that is where I first spotted the runaway black poodle named Belle. Her mama was hot on the trail running in heels and hollering at the top of her lungs for that dang dog to get herself back to the bungalo.
"Belle...Belle!" she pleaded. "Come back!!" Belle rounded the corner of our porch and proceeded to travel toward the beach where I feel sure she had a boyfriend...probably a mutt.. just waitin' for a sunset stroll. Not long after, the PR lady for the resort returned with her poodle in tow, tucking her safely inside the screen door of HER house.
Lord ya'll...we had a blast! There was golf and sand and music and bars with piers on the bay and all sorts of things to do, with a trolley to tote us and our chairs wherever and whenever we got in the mood to move off of that porch with the lizards on the screen. We went to the beach every day at some point, and ate some mighty great food. Best of all, we bonded as a cadre of travelers on a mission to live life to the fullest for a week. One flew in two days later and another arrived from Texas driving eighteen hours just to experience Sandestin on a whim. I don't know about ya'll, but I just love spontaneous things like that. It's what being southern is all about, outside of jacked up four wheelers, good music and BBQ.
How long has it been since you and yours have taken a road trip? Might be time. Here's hoping that Idgie and company enjoy theirs and trust the posting to us. Note to editor: Forget about real life and live in the moment. That is where the magic happens.
Written by Poopie @ Pecan Lane