One of the best things about being located in coastal Georgia is my proximity to the ocean. I'm not close enough to fear hurricanes and floods, but I am close enough to get there every once in a while to walk and enjoy some "hydrotherapy." There's nothing quite as soothing as the sound of waves breaking on a sandy beach.
So Rachel and I took the 15-minute drive from her house to the beach at Tybee Island this week to walk and talk and enjoy a really beautiful day. Even in Georgia, a December day in the 80s is remarkable.
I am enjoying the first luxury vacation I can remember in years. I've been all over the country and even over the ocean, but each trip has been away from home and involved a suitcase. This month between semesters is a vacation at home, where I can sleep in, plan my day, write, blog, shop, and read without interruption and without worrying about whether I have clean underwear for tomorrow. I must remember to be grateful next April, when I'm praying for the spring semester to end.
I received some good advice last year, when I was unhappy with my job and living with back pain. A friend said, "Go home every night, uncork a beer, and forget this place, and on Saturday, go to the beach." Great advice and a spot-on prescription for even more days at the beach.
Mrs. B
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