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Earlier this year, I was lucky enough to take a bucket-list trip to Ireland. It was my first trip out of the country (unless you count Canada for a high school band trip in 1988, which I don't), and every single second of it was sublime. Here are some photo highlights.
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 I just got back from seven, blissful days in Florida. It’s going to take me a minute to re-acclimate to autumn temperatures and, well, the real world. I predict it will be at least Thursday before I stop wandering out onto my porch in a tank top, expecting an ocean view instead of the dying hostas and caladium in my front yard.
Truth be told, I hope I’m still surprised that my Highlands bungalow isn’t, in fact, oceanfront property all the way into December. I want this beach high to last until spring because I hate, hate, HATE the cold. I feel like Louisville got gypped out of summer, what with all the cool snaps and dang rain, so this trip sort of helped me to reclaim the final fragments of a season that ended too soon in my hometown. And speaking of trips and vacations, the two are not mutually exclusive in my book. A vacation out of town is a time to reflect, rejuvenate, overeat without remorse, soak up your surroundings and basically sit on your ass. A trip, on the other hand, is an excursion with an agenda, guided tours, scheduled stops and a frenetic pace. You go on a trip to Rome; you vacation at the beach.  “Welcome to Whitesburg. Home of 1,534 friendly people and 2 grouches.”
That’s the sign that greeted my best friend, Whitney, and I as we drove into town for brunch this past Saturday while on our annual camping trip in Eastern Kentucky. For me, it perfectly and succinctly captures the charm of small town America. Whit and I have been going to the Pine Mountain Tacky Lawn Ornament and Pink Flamingo Soiree for the better part of 10 years, but this was the weird little festival’s 29th event. (Actually, the T-shirts say 29rd, but that’s a whole other story; one of many inside jokes.) The Soiree, always on the weekend closest to the full moon in August, is nearly indescribable, but I did my best to give a loyalist’s overview last year. You can read that post here. This year, I was glad to have my wingman and travel companion back, and we stayed for three nights instead of two. It was not the worst trip I’ve ever taken to the mountains (there is no worst, actually), but it could’ve been better.  I think, quite possibly — maybe even very likely — I will have the opportunity to go to Florida for one whole week in October. WHEEEEEE!
This is a big deal because it will be my first real vacation since I started my business in September 2012. It will also be the first time I’ve visited a beach since — gasp! — 2009. Oh sweet Lord, has it really been that long? How did I let this happen? See, if I lived in a different era (and a different state), I would have totally been a beach bunny. I love, love LOVE the ocean. The sand, the sounds, the smell, the salt water … it is truly my own little slice of heaven. It doesn’t even matter which ocean, or which beach. I’ve been to Gulf Shores and Orange Beach in Alabama; Destin, Fort Walton Beach and Panama City in Florida; Baker and Stinson beaches in Northern California; and several breathtaking stretches of sand and surf on the island of Maui. I adored each one, but I’m not gonna lie — Maui far outpaced all the others. I will go back there someday, mark my words. My upcoming trip will be to Bonita Beach, near Fort Myers, Fla., and I can’t wait to perch my ass in the sand there for the first time.  One of my favorite classic movies is the 1958 comedy, “Auntie Mame,” with Rosalind Russell. Her character’s mantra throughout the movie is one I have tried to live by over the years myself, with varying degrees of success.
Mame believes that “life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death.” She spends most of her time encouraging everyone around her to “live, live, live!” I gotta say… up until this past year and a half, I had spent a good chunk of my life simply surviving and not really living. My focus was always on taking care of other people, making sure bills were paid and waiting for the next shoe to drop … and I fully expected said shoe to fall on my head. That was an exhausting way to exist, and as a result, I realize now that I didn’t allow myself to properly acknowledge or celebrate so many moments of joy. I missed out on a lot of really good stuff because I was too busy dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. A family crisis last April -- and celebrating my milestone 40th birthday last July -- woke me up to the idea that survival is not good enough for me anymore. I decided that I want to be the best possible version of myself, and that I want to live life to the fullest every single day. So I set about to make some changes, which led to a full-on reinvention. You can read about some of that process here and here. |
About Amy HiggsA former newspaper columnist, Amy takes her random, slice-of-life stories to the web. After 12 years, she's still just saying. Archives
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