Vermont - day one

When Darcy got the job in Hawaii, the hubby suggested we meet her there. I've been to every state in the U.S. except for Hawaii and Alaska. The Aloha State was on my bucket list, but that was back in my Magnum P.I. days, and now visiting that state wouldn't even make the top ten. He next suggested Ireland.

Me: "Why are you choosing places that require a long plane ride where my feet will swell?"

Tom: "Where do you want to go?"

Me: "Vermont."

Damn it, I really wanted to go to Smuggler's Notch. 

Years ago, I saw an advertisement for this place and sent away for the DVD. I watched it twice, wishing I had the money to take my family. It's more of a ski resort but claims it's also an award winning family summer resort. 

Several years later, Wyndham added it to their resorts! Yet, I couldn't get anyone to travel there with me.

Tom: "What's there to do in Vermont?"

I wore him down. He agreed, and we booked the flights. I booked the Wyndham, asking for an upgrade as I always do. Then, I invited my brother and my SIL to join us.

Rusty: "What's there to do in Vermont?"

Men!

They couldn't go because they had flights to California around that time. Madison had school and the dog. Darcy considered it but chose a New York work camp instead. We were solo.

I thought we might not get there because Tom had this upper respiratory thing going on, but he was determined, and we made it onto the plane.

I made him wear a mask and wore one, too, because I had managed to stay germ-free for two months around these sickos. I wasn't about to pick up something in an airplane. 

We had an empty seat between us on the flight to D.C., but our next flight was full. Tom sat next to a guy who recognized us from the first flight. When he heard about our travels to Smuggler's Notch, he gave us a list of recommended places, most of them restaurants, as he was a retired chef. I jotted them all down.

The view at the Burlington airport was gorgeous.

The weather was in the 80's, but it wasn't as humid. We were there in the middle, after the summer season and before the fall foliage season. The crowds would arrive in the next two weeks, so we had minimal people and traffic. 

The drive to Smuggler's Notch was about an hour. We arrived at dusk. Check-in was a breeze. They only asked for identity verification and gave us a map and directions to our building. I had choices when I reserved the unit, but not knowing anything about the resort, I had to fly blind. We were given the upgrade to a three-bedroom.

I was disappointed. While large, spacious, and clean, the unit needed to be updated. There were stains on the carpet. The furnishings and appliances were antiquated, and there was no ice maker. But we had plenty of beds, a gas fireplace, and a back porch that opened into a wooded area. 

Tom could've cared less about the unit's state or the resort, which differed from how I remembered the video. His positivity pulled me out of my funk, but not until later. We shopped at the resort's small grocery for a few essentials, unpacked, and then went to the resort restaurant for dinner.

We were at the bottom of the staircase reading the menu when a couple descended and told us the kitchen closed at 7:30, even though the hours said nine. They weren't encouraging about driving into town, where they claimed crowds waited in line. Tom and I trudged back to our car and turned to Yelp, choosing a restaurant near the resort. 

When we pulled into the parking lot, there was one car. I didn't think that was a good sign, but when we got to the door, a sign tacked on the glass told us the entire staff was attending an employee's wedding. They would return with live music and snacks after nine. 

Tom: "We can't win."

Yelp directed us several miles to the Burger Barn, a food truck in the middle of a dark cow pasture. They only took cash, and Tom, who's worse about carrying cash than me, started laughing. 

Tom: "I'm starving, but you have to admit this is funny."

I was tired, hungry, and still annoyed about the unit, so I only gave him a bland smile, but I did have cash. We didn't starve. We got the burgers and drove back to the unit, where we started a fire and ate.

Tom: "We're only here to sleep and eat, and it's more than adequate. It's huge. It's as big as our house. We'll be fine."

Day one in the books.

The yucks are at my house

For the past few weeks, I've lived among the unhealthy. First, Madison went down with a sinus infection that required meds. Then, Tom followed. Maddy had a week of relief and then contracted strep throat. Tom kept coughing. Somewhere in there, Oleg returned from a NY business trip with a virus he passed onto Darcy.

Somehow, I am holding strong.

My brother would say it's because they all WORK. I won't dispute that. I'd add, out of the house, because I WORK--just from home. It's a lot safer, I'm discovering.

So, while these two sniffle, cough, and go through my Sam's Club blocks of Kleenex, I moved into the guest room to sleep. And I'm getting the best sleep of my life!

Not only am I away from snoring and sleep apnea, but I don't hear the dog or worry about him peeing on my carpet. The room is like a cave with its personal a/c unit I can set the way I want and its black-out blinds. No wonder Darcy was such a good sleeper. 

I might have to rethink this whole get the family healthy kick I've got going on with my chicken noodle soups and disinfecting. 

I'm definitely glad Tom and I have a three-bedroom unit on our upcoming vacation. If we make it there!

Tom: "We're going. We paid too much not to."

I'm wearing a mask when these two are home. I really want to go to Vermont!

Writing retreat number 1

I've joined several writing chapters since I started this author journey. Through one, I met and bonded with eight women. We live in different cities (and one is in another state), but with our local chapter closing, we've met in various locations to stay connected. 

This past weekend, we held a writer's retreat in Orlando in one of my Wyndhams. I got there first, in a major rainstorm, and opened the door to this bougie four-bedroom presidential unit.

Since our original six had dwindled to four due to illness and work, that gave each of us a room. I chose mine and sat down to write while I waited for everyone to arrive. 

I kept hearing this odd crackling noise as I worked and discovered it came from the fireplace. I had noticed the roaring fireplace when I'd arrived, but I hadn't taken the time to investigate it. 

I'm not a fire fan. I blame my brother's pyro ways as a child. He scared the shit out of me. Once, our neighbor caught him lighting wood on fire in the back of this guy's hill, and when the neighbor yelled at him, my brother picked up a shovel and began putting it out.

 

Neighbor: "What the hell are you doing?"

Brother: "I'm playing Smoky the Bear and stamping out forest fires."

The neighbor could barely choke this out to my parents when he called them because he thought it was the funniest thing. Me? Not so much.

I assumed this fireplace was gas, which I don't mind, but it was open to the elements on both sides. I really wanted to touch it, fear be damned, because what the hell?

One by one, the writers arrived with snacks, drinks, and food. Both the freezer and the refrigerator were full. It looked like we'd come for a week instead of three nights. 

Everyone asked about the crackling, but no one could figure out the fireplace or how it worked. And we were busy drinking writing. 

But later that night, after discovering the dishwasher leaked, I had to call down for maintenance. A male told me he'd transfer me, but he asked if everything else was satisfactory before doing so. 

Me: "Everything is great, but if I touch the fire, will I get burned?"

Him: (in a VERY condescending tone) It's water vapor."

Me: "So, that's a no?"

He immediately transferred me, and we laughed all night, periodically asking one another if we'd get burned if we touched the fire.

Us: "It's water vapor."

We did have to look it up, and now, I want a water vapor fireplace. We also figured out how to control it and how to have the fire without the fake crackling.

It was a great weekend. We laughed until our abs hurt, ate until our stomachs begged us to stop, and wrote a ton. We played writing games, brainstormed plots, and got to know one another better. We sent a lot of pictures to those who could not make it. 

The repair guy loved us so much we thought he'd never leave. Or maybe that's because we asked him to tell us what was the craziest maintenance call he ever got. The story involved fire and was shocking, but not as much as the following story that came after learning we were romance writers. 

That story involved breaking down doors and a naked couple having raunchy sex in the jacuzzi tub with the faucet on and the water sloshing over the sides. They had to pay for the damage to the room and the one downstairs. 

Us: "Were they hot? Young?"

Him: "Well, after seeing her, we understood why he didn't seem to mind us in his unit."

It took twenty-four hours for me to adjust to being around others after the retreat. 

But I have found my people.

Hurricane Idalia 2023

Hurricanes have been a no-no topic around my niece since childhood. Her fear of weather developed around six or seven years old, and since they visited Florida in the summer, we steered clear of the trigger word. 

That has stayed the same since she entered adulthood--until this visit. 

Hurricane Idalia's path was coming straight for us, and in anticipation of that, our airport was closed on the day my family was to fly home. No way to hide that.

My niece had not brought her work computer, had many wedding photos to edit, and the news was nothing but doom and gloom. We did our best to assure her, and when no one in our neighborhood began boarding, she resigned herself to the fact this was happening. Oh well.

The family likened the hurricane panic to the brutal snowstorms they get in northern Indiana. We bought some snacks and ensured we had plenty of water, but we continued with tourist activities. There isn't much else to do until the day it strikes.

And it didn't happen.

We received wind and rain in our immediate area, but nothing like the flooding they got farther north and south of us. The poor Fox Mercantile got hit hard. Their Instagram reported flooding in all the rooms, but they'd prepared and saved the merchandise. Tarpon Springs, where Darcy and Gabby had been two days before the hurricane, also got hit with the street and shops flooding. Our local beach took a hit with the wind, and the storm surge and high tide wiped away the beach access walkways and stairs.  

Susan and I walked the beach the day after, photographing the sea creatures we'd have never seen had it not been for Idalia. 

Then, we enjoyed the three extra days they got in Florida.

Resolutions 2023 - eight month check

It's check-in time. One point a month for each resolution I've worked on. Hopefully, by the end of the year, I'll have 12 for completion. A score of 2 means I worked on it each month. 

• Paint my home space - My ceilings haven't been painted since we first moved in. My living room and my hallway need an overhaul. My bedroom could use it too, but that isn't as important as the first two. -  COMPLETED Score - 2

• Entice Tom to build my shelves to display my playing card collection - I collect playing cards. I need somewhere to display them, and Tom drew out plans for what I found on Etsy. He claims he can knock it out, "don't waste your money." Once I get the paint done, this comes next. -  I'm not sure how much enticing I did, but he has built them! They still need to be stained and hung, but technically, this job is complete! - COMPLETED Score - 2 

• Travel - Can't let those Wyndham points go to waste. - Too much happened this summer for me to get away. But my kids did.  - Score - 0 

• Lower my cholesterol - I retake it in May or June - Yes! I did it! But I'm keeping this resolution open since the bad is still high. I plan to retake it again by the end of the year. Still, technically, it is completed. Score - 2

• Exercise/Healthy eating habits - This goes with the above, but I do need to shed some weight for my own mental health, not to mention the flip side of the coin. - A bit here, a bit there - Exercised this summer in the pool - Score - 1

• Catch up on my blog - Writing has kept me from this. My readers are complaining. I need to catch up! - I am going to come home big here at the end! - Score 1

Total - 8 out of 12 - But two (and a half) completed!

The rest of summer birthdays

Last year, Oleg was sick on his birthday, and this year was no different. Due to illness, we had to celebrate it days later and without certain COVID-19-positive family members. 

Then, Maddy went down with a sinus infection. Next went Tom, so we couldn't celebrate his August birthday. Their illnesses lasted a solid two months. I had never heard so much coughing and sniffling in my life! I made them wear masks during their most severe days, and I moved into the guest room to avoid catching anything by sleeping with the hubby. 

Maddy fractured some ribs during her illness, lost her voice at one point, and had to teach using her iPhone's text-to-talk feature. The kids thought that was hilarious.

I represented our family during Brea's birthday celebration because the other two couldn't be around people. I've never done so much disinfecting, including during the pandemic, when I kept everyone indoors and away from germs. 

I dread to see what winter will bring.

Summer visitors

My SIL and my niece arrived Wednesday for a week. When Susan is here, she has a list. She wants to hit her favorite restaurants, has to see the beach and the sunset at least once, and must have her picture taken with any palm trees. 

She got three in the first full day. 

This time, my niece had a list. She loves exploring coffee shops, and she loves foxes, and she'd found this place in Cortez that had both. So, on Friday, we took a road trip.

The weather was lovely, and the drive was under two hours long. The Fox Mercantile was super cute. Upon entrance is the shop. It sells homewares, local jewelry, and other accessories, usually with a fox theme. A small coffee/tea area with small snacks is at the back of the shop, and there is an outdoor area with native plants and trees for a tropical oasis vibe, scented by fragrant jasmine vines. 

We sat out there with our coffee. The owner was friendly, and Gabs got some nice stuff.

From there, we ventured downtown and had breakfast, and heading home, we stopped in downtown St. Petersburg, where we wandered and had tea at another little coffee shop Gabs wanted to visit. 

It was a lovely day, and for us, something new.

Repair job 1,456

We need to redo our kitchen. It's been on the list for some time, and we had gotten estimates at one point. But two kids were in college, then the pandemic came, and it all fell by the wayside. But our mauve (need I say more) formica is detaching from the wall, the cabinet doors break, and Tom has repaired the pull-out garbage can several times.

When it broke again, he shrugged and said we'd have to live with it. This break was the worst. Before, the can either didn't pull out far enough or it was hard to push in. In this break, the damn thing just fell every time we used it--right on our toes. 

After a few days of this, I decided I was fixing it. Blog readers and family know I had a dad who repaired everything. We rarely called in an expert because my dad was one. A few days before he died, I called him about a repair job in my home. 

He was the man.

I have his genes. Plus, I spent a lot of time watching him work. That was more interesting to me than cooking in the kitchen. 

So, I set about repairing it. The garbage can sits inside an encasement that slides into a hole in the cabinetry. I pulled the encasement out to assess the situation but got distracted cleaning the recess. It was gross. That took considerable time, and I had to crawl into it, which meant getting on my hands and knees. 

In there, I found the issue. The encasement runs on a track, and the track had pulled away from the sides--multiple times, by the look of things. The screws were goners, sliced in half, and worthless, so I hunted for new screws in the garage. It's a little bigger than a one-car garage and organized by Tom's hand, meaning I'm clueless. But I found screws, retrieved the electric drill, and worked inside the hole. Madison wandered into the kitchen.

Maddy: "What is happening?"

Me: "I'm putting an asshole on a hobby horse."

See? I even talk like my dad.

Maddy: "Oh, good, because I can't tell you how many times that can has fallen on my foot. Do you want some help?"

I did. She's young. She can get down on the tile floor, and she did. It wasn't easy. We needed the drill to start the holes, and we switched out the electric screwdriver for a manual, which I did before turning over the electric screwing to Madison.  

We had to do it three times. The first time was a smidge off, and the can closed but needed a firm hand. We opted to try again. It was too high the second time, and we had to unscrew and start again.

Me: "You should put that screw somewhere safe so you won't lose it. That's something your dad is always telling me."

Maddy: "I'm putting it right here next to me."

Me: "That's not exactly safe. I had my screws in a bowl."

Maddy: "And I have mine here next to me." 

Okay, I let her be. Instead, I washed the garbage can, stopped to assist Maddy for a minute, returned to it, finished it, and dried it. Something was poking me in my slipper, and I took it off and shook it out. 

You see where I'm going, don't you? God, I love foreshadowing. 

Maddy: "Where's the screw?"

Me: "What screw? The one I told you to put someone safe?"

Maddy: "Yes. Did you take it?"

Me: "I did not."

She found another one in the garage and returned to drilling. Since we were near the end, I began cleaning up the materials.

Me: "Dammit! Something is in my slipper. I can't see a thing, but I feel it every time I put it on and walk."

Yep. 

I couldn't stop laughing. Because if you knew my dad, this is precisely the stuff that happened to him when he did repair jobs.

I learned well at the master's knee. 

We finished and didn't tell Tom. He found out when he pulled out the can to throw something away. He was thrilled, if not a bit judgmental.

Pfft.

And another leaves the nest

August started with a bang. Oleg's mom had a health scare that required calling an ambulance, and she was hospitalized for several days. I had the weird eye/tooth thing. By the middle of this month, anxiety was a daily thing in my life.

It was a relief to be active. Sydney moved into her USF dorm yesterday, and her mother and I led the charge. The day was hot and sunny. We got a rain shower that lasted for minutes, and it was humid. Perfect weather for moving furniture. 

Having done this more recently than SueG, I knew to go first to the volunteer tent and score some college kids with a bin. They were standing under the tent, waiting.

Me: "Who wants us? We have a shit ton of stuff, but we're fun with a capital F."

Immediately, a girl named Moe threw up her hand.

Moe: "We got you!"

She and her female counterpart pulled the bin to the car, and I got her story. She, too, was a freshman but had volunteered to move into the dorm early, avoiding today's fuss. I liked her immediately, and boy, could this girl haul ass. 

She climbed into the van and lifted, pushed, and pulled furniture. She loaded and organized things into the bin and directed us, giving me pillows to carry and Sydney suitcases. It took them three trips to get everything into the room, and we laughed and entertained both girls so much that they were sorry when they had to move on to someone else.

Alex and Sydney's dad appeared and were given building jobs. The roommate and her mother and grandmother arrived. Sydney and I moved furniture. I made the bed, and SueG and I unpacked suitcases and hung clothes. We had the room looking damn good in record time, and then we sent the men home, went out to eat, and then shopped for all the things Darcy had listed that Sydney needed. 

I kept commenting about how we'd see her at Thanksgiving, and I'd fake cry. Both of them claim they are not emotional, and while that's 75 percent true, there is that 25 percent. However, once it was time to go, I did not expect either of them to cry.

And they did.

One minute, they were at the van door saying goodbye, while I paid scant attention, more focused on my missed phone message, and then the next minute, I looked up, and both were crying. 

Me: "What? Are you crying? OMG, are you two crying?"

SueG: "Maybe."

Ah, the empty nest. I know it well. Good luck, kiddo. Happy adventures!

Do your homework!

Weird medical stuff

For two weeks, my right eye has bothered me when reading. It's as if something is blocking part of my vision, sometimes blurring it. I let it go, thinking it would resolve itself, but then I discovered something odd on the right side of my mouth under my upper gum. I immediately went down the traumatic rabbit hole of all the horrible things it could be, and then I called my dentist and eye doctor. 

The dentist saw me immediately. He wasn't overly concerned, but he suggested I see an endodontist and made an appointment that day. I hung around Starbucks, worrying until it was time, and had the cone beam computed tomography (CBCT image), where the scanner rotated around my head, obtaining distinct images. I've had this once before when I needed a root canal, and I loved that endodontist. But he retired, so I waited for the new guy to appear to tell me one of the many things I feared. 

Endo Guy: "The images are perfect. I'm not concerned."

I liked him. He believes it is a bone, an exostosis, and it's common. Truthfully, it may have always been there. How can I be expected to remember stuff at my age? I told him I was worried because it was on the same side as my weird eye issue. He said sinus stuff can cause weird things, but this wasn't that.

Endo Guy: "You're cured."

I could also see a periodontist, but I've decided not to worry about this anymore. 

I wanted to see the ophthalmologist who did my cataract surgery, but the appointment lady didn't even consider him, instead giving me a newbie optometrist because mine, whom I'd seen recently, was on vacation. Great.

She was not helpful, although they did retinal imaging to rule out a detached retina. She gave me another thorough eye exam, told me to purchase an eye wash, use warm compresses and eye drops, and she'd see me in four weeks. She also took out her hair clip, flipped her head upside down, gathered her hair into a ponytail, and rewound it to attach it with the clip she held in her teeth. All while talking to me.

I tried to make that next appointment with my regular eye guy, but he had another vacation scheduled. Jeez.

I did everything she told me to do, and by the time I went back, it was more blurry than blocking, and I could get rid of it by looking to the left before it would reappear. And it wasn't a steady thing like it had been. She gave me some doctor speak about it being an aging thing with the fluid in the back of my eye and took another retinal image. 

In essence, live with it. 

As I do with all my other ailments. 

That is good enough for now. I've decided not to worry. 

I like to think I made her adventurous

Darcy's summer included two work trips, one to Alaska and one to Hawaii. Between those times, she spent a few days in California to cut down on traveling back and forth. She stayed with her bestie Sarina, who is in CA for school, and she visited with her uncles and her cousin Austin and his wife, Kendra.

The last time she'd done a work trip to Alaska, she got COVID with several other consumers. Back then, the ships tested for the virus before boarding, and she was, in her words, "kicked out of Alaska." This time, there was no such testing, and she completed the trip.

In Hawaii, she stayed a few days after the job in one of our Wyndham resorts because "when will I ever have this opportunity again." She gave us a slide presentation of both trips upon her return and handed out yummy gifts, including coffee and macadamia nuts. I'm glad I only knew after the trips she ventured out on her own so often. I would have freaked out that she'd miss the ship.

But gee, I'm proud of that kid for being adventurous since I am not and wish I was. 

I think I'll leave my Wyndham share to her. 

Walmart Sam

Since COVID, I've kept getting my Walmart grocery order from pick-up. It's so convenient. I can order online, hit Publix, and then zip across the street to pick up my Walmart order. It's the bomb, even though I feel weird sitting in my car while someone loads my groceries.

For the longest time, it's been this skinny, solemn kid who says nothing unless spoken to. Half the time, he doesn't even acknowledge he's done. He just closes the trunk. Occasionally, I had someone different, but it was when I began going directly from the gym that I got Sam (name changed to protect) regularly. 

He caught me dancing in my car and laughed. He was outgoing, cheeky, and conscious of the items he put into my car. Once, the milk leaked, and he went inside to switch it out. Another time, he didn't like the look of a cucumber and got me another one. Each time, he chatted with me like a long-lost friend, constantly reminding me to give him a good review.

Of course, I did. People like that deserve to be commended.

It didn't take much for him to learn I was a writer. Nice guy chatting me up? Sure, I'll give you my bank information. Okay, no, it wasn't like that, but I told him I was a romance author, and every time he'd fill my trunk, we'd chat about my writing. He had tons of questions.

Him: "There are all types of genres? Paranormal? Like wolves? With humans? Where is your book set? What's a series?"

Other than people asking me if I'm done with my book, not many ask anything else. It was nice to talk shop for the five minutes he'd linger after loading my groceries. A couple of times, he asked about my social media, but I only heard Facebook, and since I rarely go on my personal one, let alone my author's Facebook, I never gave him that information. 

Until he mentioned Instagram one day. 

That is a social media platform I've perfected, so I gave that to him, and he immediately followed me. Later, while posting for the day, I checked out his Instagram, and his pinned picture stopped my thumb from swiping.

It was something like this: (This is not him. This guy is from my Daily Hunk calendar my daughter got me for Christmas, but you get the drift)

So, what does a romance writer do after seeing what's under her Walmart delivery guy's uniform?

I asked him if he'd be on the cover of one of my novels!

He said sure. 

Stay tuned...

Resolutions 2023 - six month check

It's check-in time. One point a month for each resolution I've worked on. Hopefully, by the end of the year, I'll have 12 for completion. 

• Paint my home space - My ceilings haven't been painted since we moved in. My living room and my hallway need an overhaul. My bedroom could use it too, but that isn't as important as the first two. -  COMPLETED Score 2

• Entice Tom to build my shelves to display my playing card collection - I collect playing cards. I need somewhere to display them, and Tom drew plans for what I found on Etsy. He claims he can knock it out, "Don't waste your money." Once I get the paint done, this comes next. -  I mentioned it. Does that count? - Score - 0 

• Travel - Can't let those Wyndham points go to waste. - I went to a writer's conference in May and traveled to several states in June - Score - 2 

• Lower my cholesterol - I retake it in May or June. - Okay, so I missed my 6-month check-in, and although I did hike the Smoky Mnts, I also drank that entire week, so I put off the check. - Score 1

• Exercise/Healthy eating habits - This goes with the above, but I do need to shed some weight for my own mental health, not to mention the flip side of the coin. - A bit here, a bit there - Score - 1

• Catch up on my blog - Writing has kept me from this. My readers are complaining. I need to catch up! - Ugh. No. - Score - 0

Total - Total 6 out of 12 w/one completed - I stayed the same. I didn't go backward. I'll take it.

Goodbye Sevierville/Pigeon Forge

We awoke to sunshine and clear skies. 

Of course, we did.

Goodbyes were hard. It was a good girls' trip. But all good things must end, or so THEY say, so Kim set off to Ohio, and we set off for Pennsylvania. Steph let me drive for a few hours, but mainly, I provided the entertainment as we passed through multiple states. Maggie was a huge help.

We talked in our southern accent the entire time and worried we wouldn't be able to go back to normal.  

We arrived in Hershey at dusk, pulled up to unload out front, and Maggie's fans were there, a group of bicyclists shouting at her as she dragged her suitcase up the walkway. I'd forgotten her star status here in the land of candy.

Kid: "That's Maggie, right?"

Me: "It is. Sorry, kid, but no autographs tonight. She's returning from a week spent with adults. She needs some quiet time."

Kid: "Huh?"

Steph's son had dinner for us, and we ate while we regaled him with stories in our Southern accents. He was impressed with Maggie's accent and indifferent to ours. 

Nate: "I think it's kind of cool."

By breakfast of the next day, he was over it. 

When I headed home, we were back to normal except for the occasional slip. 

For the two days I was there, we caught up on things. Steph weeded her overgrown garden, I caught up on emails and phone messages, and Maggie ran amok with her endeared friend crowd. We hit the grocery, delivered the instrument panel to Steph's mechanic, and celebrated her friend's birthday. On the day I departed, we dropped Maggie off at volleyball and had dinner near the airport. The restaurant was having trivia night, and Steph and I were in second place after round one. Unfortunately, I had a plane to catch. Otherwise, we'd have won. I know it.

Wild Girls take Pigeon Forge 2023 is in the books!