I Blame It on The Sunshine

Hello!  Once again, I’ve left you in silence.  Back in the day I would have declared a blog break until I can find some regularity in writing but then when such a thing is stated,  then I restrict my liberty to pop in when I can.  Which makes no sense whatsoever because, hullo, where are the WordPress Police Headquarters?  It’s just that I’m a rule follower and it feels as wrong to write when I’ve said that I wouldn’t as it does to not write when I’ve somehow implied through the existence of this site that I should.  No doubt many lose interest when the author is unreliable, but be assured I don’t hold it against you.  I disappoint myself much more than I could anyone else.

I am drawn out of my seclusion by virtue of being on vacation in St. Simons Island, GA and therefore blessedly finding myself on Island Time.   Island Time is not the same as Slow Time.  This is North Alabama speak for the Central Time Zone as opposed to Fast Time aka Eastern Time which we travel in and out of on a regular basis.  It’s very confusing and when we first moved to Slow Time and I had appointments in Fast Time you could count on it that I would be one hour late. Or an hour and 15.  Because that’s just the reality of it when I have four other people to motivate into the Suburban before we can be on our way.  All that aside, Island Time is another way of saying we don’t have anywhere to be at any certain time unless we are trying to make an Early Bird menu which is pretty much every night because did I mention I do not cook on Island Time save for Grill Night which hubby will do most of the work? 

[Yes, I just told the web that we are away from home but never fear!  Armed and dangerous roofers are at the house all week guarding our broken down abode in which there are no valuables.]

We’ve had such a rest thus far.  Luke and I hit an antique show in which we scored these:

Luke has been obsessed with vintage fans since he saw one on American Restoration.  It weighs approximately 800 lbs. proving that indeed, they do not make things like they used to.   I picked up the Georgia map from a vendor who had dozens more that I adored.  I really wanted a very large one that dated back to the original boundaries but it was several hundred dollars and, well, no.  Just no.  Speaking of Georgia, it really is refreshing to be back in the motherland where all gift and sports shops bleed Red and Black.  I stocked up on Bulldog gear on sale at an athletics store in the mall where, glory, there was not an elephant or eagle in sight.  Yes and amen. *grin to my Alabama sisters*  And the Tums in the photo?  I refer you back to the aforementioned Early Bird Specials and the fact certain things are not made like they used to be. 

As much as I would like to hang around, I need to go nurse my sunburn which consequently matches my new Georgia Bulldog shirt and is equally welcome.  I didn’t get one smidge of sun last summer so I’m grateful for the sting.  Afterwards, Sydney and I are going to the village to get her hair wrapped in one of those seedy little henna tattoo shops that I hope no one sees us patronize.  And yet I’ve just told you we are going proving yet again that the sins?  They find you out.  Especially if you are of the sort that tends to tell on yourself.  

Well, now.  How’s that for a lets-catch-up post? 

Assuredly I remain the more disappointed,

There’s sure to be something for everyone

It’s official.  The respite is over and we are back to full on madness here in the McKay household.  We got home yesterday afternoon just in time to get ready to go to our high school’s last season game.  I have no idea where Thursday night games came from.   It feels like a Friday Night Lights sacrilege to me but whatev.  I’m just SO pumped that our guys are region champs!  I’m going to write about their Cinderella story on a different post. 

I know you can’t wait to hear me expound upon my vast football knowledge.  

So back to our rush to get home for the game.  Luke started reminding Tuesday that we HAD to be back home by 3 p.m. Thursday afternoon. I don’t know where he ever got the idea that I might make him miss a deadline.  I basically ignored all his smack until he began suggesting Wednesday night that I wouldn’t have time to shower the next morning.   That may have been when I told him what he could do with that lit firecracker in his pocket.  Geesh.  Am I the only woman whose husband acts like they are in a road race as soon as they slip behind the wheel?  Just so you know, I showered, packed, cleaned our room AND we still pulled out of the parking lot at 7:28 a.m.  


And speaking of road trips, y’all, there are some freaks on our nation’s highways.  We stopped at a Florida rest area at 9 p.m. at night.  It wasn’t my choice but there was some urgency involved if you get my drift.  We felt pretty safe since the sign advertised 24 hour security. 

 The security turned out to be a rent-a-guard who was fast asleep in his vehicle.   Safe indeed.

It’s with hesitation that I ever say that Luke and I are the most normal people in a crowd but I’m confident that the pastor and his wife who just needed to potty and get back on the road status won out on this occasion.  How do I know?  There were two other cars there besides Sleepy Man.  One belonged to a couple who were speed-walking laps around the parking lot.  Without a dog.  At 9 p.m.  In the dark.  The entire idea of it was such an oxymoron.  Rest, people.  You are supposed to rest.

I pause to even tell you about the other guy but let’s just say he was loitering, texting, and perhaps waiting on a victim date.  That’s all I can bear to think about that.  Had I been alone and saw this dude, even having the protection of the fine security guard wouldn’t have convinced me to stop for fear of ending up on 20/20.  

Am I delivering on my random or what?

There is a point to all of this.  Florida with Chuck and Deb was fabulous as always.  We always laugh like a bunch of school girls over nothing that you would appreciate at all.  Those are the best kinds of friends, yes?  These two are definitely our safe place.  As a ministry family, there’s nothing more important than having bff’s with whom you can totally decompress.  Mission accomplished.   Until next year that is..  

Here are a few of our week’s highlights in list format:

1. Liza’s Cafe  Portobello Sandwich.  Y’all.  If you ever find yourself in Panama City Beach, you MUST get to Liza’s on Thomas Drive.  Of all the fresh seafood we ate, my Portobello Sandwich was the most memorable meal I had.  We had lunch here twice in 4 days if that is a hint at all to the yumminess.

2.  Kilwin’s Lemon Sorbetto.

Kilwin’s is one of those delightful shops that serves everything from fudge to caramel apples to chocolate dipped rice krispy treats.  I don’t know what they do to their ice cream, but this lemon sorbetto was heavenly.   The perfect blend of tart with the sweetness of a sugar cone.  I also had 2 of these  in 4 days.   What can I say?  When I find something I like I tend to overdose.

October 2009 028

3. Silver Jeans   I’ve been looking for a great pair of jeans but unfortunately my children need electricity and groceries.   Spoiled brats.  I’d never heard of Silver Jeans before I saw them in a boutique store last week at the mall.   I found the exact pair I’d turned down because they were $90 on sale for $35 in a Pier Park shop!  What?   This was one of those deals where they were too cheap not to buy.  Luke has yet to understand or embrace this rationale.

4.  Pier Park– I absolutely adore this development.  Great shops, restaurants, theaters, and even a Target for Pete’s sake.  When we vacationed in PCB before we always felt we had to drive to Destin for decent shopping.  No more!  Well done, whoever.  Well done.

5.   Sunset

The Lord showed off on our last night there and set the sky on fire.  Isn’t He amazing?


And that concludes the Big People Vacation Recap of 2009.

p.s.  If you follow me on Twitter, you may have heard me chirping about my new web design that is going live soon.  Stay close by for the next couple of days!  It’s almost done and I’M FREAKING OUT.   Karen is Da Bomb and you are going to want to reserve her skillz for your next makeover, I promise.



Live Strong or Semi-Strong or Whatever Doesn’t Require Pedaling

When Luke suggested rather last-minute that we go to St. Simons for Spring Break, after I freaked out a little over the amount of laundry I would have to do to get us here, I started a mental checklist of all the things I wanted to do on the island.

1. Sleep late. {Check}
2. Go to the beach. {Check. But only once because it’s been pretty chilly.}
3. Sit in the jacuzzi tub. {Check, check, and check.}
4. Read lots of fluffy fiction. {I’ve finished The Desperate Pastors’ Wives and Matter of Wife and Death. Working on Katt’s in the Cradle.}
5. Spend time in the Word with no study agenda. {God keeps leading me to passages on praise. Appropriate for vacation week, yes?}

I’d done Numbers 1-5 by Thursday which left bike riding and a Caramel Apple Spice from Starbucks on the list. Being the multi-tasker that I am, I decided to hit both of those at one time.

Now, Starbucks didn’t appear to be too far from the house but apparently my judgement was a little skewed by the fact I was reading the fluffy fiction books while hubby was driving. (And obeying all the speed limit and traffic signs, I should add. You can cheer, homies!) So yesterday morning I jumped on the bike thinking I could get to the Starbucks in no time, drink my Caramel Apple Spice at one of the picnic tables and generally enjoy a bit of solitude before the fam was up and moving.


I knew I was in trouble when I had been riding several, several minutes and passed a skateboard park that only takes 30 seconds to reach by car. I considered going back then, but visions of Lance Armstrong and Live Strong started dancing in my head and I convinced myself that I could do this thing.

I pedaled on.

And on.

And on.

I rode past parks, swamps, resorts, the airport, a fire department and I still wasn’t there. Just when I was beginning to cry, Luke called to soothe me by saying something to the effect of “would you mind biking across the bridge into Brunswick while you are out and picking me up a few things?”

Smart alec.

After I whined a minute, he agreed to come get me if needed but after all the laughing that was going on I decided, come pulled hamstring or unfortunate highway crossing accident, there was no way in heck fire I would humiliate myself by letting him. So, even though I could almost see the road I would need to turn on to get to the Starbucks., I decided to ride back home just to prove I could. And truthfully, at that point, if I went any further my chances were dicey.

Whoever said the trip home is always quicker than the trip there (or almost there) has never made that trip by bike. And to make matters worse, somehow I missed my little side street and ended up at the local elementary school before I figured out I’d gone too far. Add that to the list of town amenities I’d visited on my excursion.

I can’t tell you the joy of finally rolling into our driveway. The reason I can’t tell you is because I fell to the ground when I jumped off the bike because my legs were so noodly.

But not noodly enough to keep me from dragging myself to the truck and driving back to Starbucks like any truly civilized, lazy girl should have done to begin with.

Who says I’m not an athlete.

And a driven one at that.



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