Carolina In My Mind

The residents of Fordeville are back from the Outer Banks.  And, I’m happy to report, the Roadtrip and Vomit Gods were much better to us on the way home than on the drive down.  Thankfully.  Otherwise I might be living in a motel somewhere along I-95 right now. 

It will take a while — say, seven or eight years — before the I-95 Vomitfest leaves my memory.  So you’ll forgive me if I tend to mention it now and then as part of the related Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. 

But.

Once we were there, the place was beautiful and the vacation was really nice.

Mainly because of the ocean view, which was abundant and beautiful.  We were never more than a window’s peek away from the water.  Which I find so peaceful.

Yes, I just said peaceful in reference to a place that housed six kids, four adults and two dogs for a week.

Because from any point inside, you could see this.

And then there were the decks.  Plural.  Which I loved.  And which also served some very special purposes.

Like man and dog reading hour.  I think the book in question involved the history of bacon.

Like critical business tasks.  Obviously.

Like cousins standing guard.  Probably over the Chips Ahoy stash.

Like watching the moon rise over the ocean every night.  {See also: “The blender held up beautifully” and “We recycled enough cans and bottles to generate power for a small country.”}

And when we weren’t on the deck, we were faced with the difficult burden of choosing between the beach and the pool for the day.  I know, I know — but someone has to do it.

The North Carolina beach was beautiful.  And the water was warm — something you don’t find in the Northeast.  Unless you inadvertently swim through some medical waste.  Or some pee.

But the sun was incredibly strong, and made the sand way too hot to really walk on.  Which blew any plans I had for sandcastles, or for jogging barefoot in a bikini.  {To be clear, the existence of the latter plan was slim to none, with slim leaving town fast.}

And so, the water, sand and sun really wore the kids out.  Score.

Back at the pool, life couldn’t get much better. 

It really was taxing, all of this pool and beach and nightime cocktailing ocean moon watching.  We really needed a break.  If only we could find something cold and delicious to eat nearby.

Doesn’t Jerry look cute these days?

Anyway.  It really was a very low-key, low maintenance type of week.  You know, apart from the ride down.  {Sorry, I mentioned it again.  PTSD, I tell you.}

And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention The Christmas Miracle in July.  Something that happens only a handful of times every few decades. 

A. Family. Photo. Where. Everyone. Is. Looking. At. The. Camera.

Crazy, right?  Whatever we did, you can be sure it can never be replicated.  Pure vacation magic.

And speaking of magic, we made it home without incident.