It’s been over a month since mine and Chris’ annual anniversary trip, and I still haven’t finished this blog post about it. Because every time I try to write, I find myself in this situation….
I’m supposed to be blogging right now. But instead, I’m browsing online, trying to figure out the best way to use credit card points to take another vacation with my husband.
(Repeat above paragraph fifteen times on fifteen different days.)
It’s an addictive thing, time away. On the first day back, when I was supposed to be enjoying the rapturous beauty of my children’s angelic faces, I was thinking repeatedly, “They talk so MUCH. They are so LOUD. They ask SO MANY QUESTIONS. I forget … how do I normally stay calm and sane?”
But then I remembered my last interaction with Noah the morning before we left.
Okay. They’re pretty awesome. But I really, really, REALLY like time away with my husband, also.
We rarely do much deep talking and we NEVER do that thing where couples go away and spreadsheet and calendar out their entire year and their goals and their budget and their hopes and dreams. No, we’re more of the vacating type of vacationers. We do a lot of sitting on the beach, eating (I totally ditched my sugar rules for the trip), photo taking, running, and biking.
(I get that last part might not feel like vacation to some. But it feels like vacation to us.)
This year, I even remembered to bring my tripod along to get a decent picture of the two of us – a rarity for certain.
As I stared at my phone to click the shutter button that would send the message to my camera, Chris complained about being feasted upon by the very angry South Carolina Gnat Army. It was all very romantic.
This photo was much more realistic of the magical moment.
But wait. Let’s start at the beginning of the trip.
We spent the first night in Savannah, arriving at 2am because we really really wanted to get vacationing as soon as possible. We woke up late the next morning and took a very circuitous walk to lunch. Strolling through countless historic Savannah squares and taking pictures of water fountains, all while Chris recounted monologues in his Kevin-Spacey-in-The-Garden-of-Good-and-Evil voice and style, is a perfect start to vacation.
At one point, we were deep in one of these very silly conversations, and had accidentally walked between some orange cones.
“Hey!! HEY!!! This sidewalk is CLOSED!! What did you think those cones were doing there?? GEEZ!”
I guess we thought they were there for decoration?
He was not amused.
But we didn’t let that angry utilities guy take away from the magic of Savannah, with buildings dating back to far before there were utilities or grumpy utility workers.
We enjoyed lunch along the waterfront, watching the giant shipping boats and other charm of the Savannah riverfront.
Chris wanted to remember our day with a selfie. I don’t believe in this sort of photography, because it’s never flattering (or maybe I’m just a bad selfie taker.)
So when he asked me to send him the picture I took for him, I sent him this one instead. Again. Much more realistic of the moment.
After enjoying Savannah to the point of dripping sweat (seriously it is SO HOT AND HUMID there), we drove on to Hilton Head, an island off of South Carolina of which we had never visited before. A lot of our friends rave about it, so we had decided to give it a try.
We had been gently warned by the hotel concierge the week before that “we really like our beiges in Hilton Head” and everything is “very beige.” We prefer bright beach colors ourselves, but we figured we could take a beige vacation every now and then.
She did not warn us, however, that the original planners of the island must have decreed that no roadside visibility was allowed for any establishment.
Want to find the beige Publix? Good luck. It’s hidden behind half an acre of trees and don’t expect there to be a sign telling you it’s back there.
By the end of the trip we were highly amused at how many shades of beige we were now able to differentiate between. And how many grueling hours local builders must put in, studying the spectrum of beiges they were allowed to use to find JUST THE PERFECT beige. When we’d come across a gray house we would squeal with excitement.
DID YOU JUST SEE THAT IT WAS GRAY!!! IT WAS ALMOST AS IF THE ISLAND HAD COLOR!!!
Hilton Head is basically the Uncle Knit Knots of islands.
But seriously. We didn’t mind. (Too much.) And the skies made up for the lack of color every morning and night.
(Although maybe this would explain why I did the unthinkable and actually woke up for two sunrises on vacation….I was color deprived.)
And of course, we caught many sunsets, further satiating my need for bright and bold colors.
We even caught a full moon over the water.
And of course I tried to get some @happyroadkill shots, but y’all – EVEN THE ROADKILL WAS BEIGE.
The only place we found true color was at the lighthouse, which must have existed before The Beige Decrees or surely it would’ve been a lovely stripe of light beige and light-medium beige.
But it didn’t matter.
It was FINE.
We relaxed. And we were happy. Even in the beige hotel basket.
(Although woodgrain was a really daring shade of beige for the island.)
…And now it’s time for me to get back to searching for our next vacation.