happily ever after

V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N by Valerie Nusbaum It’s June, and with the onset of summer, most people are busy planning vacations. Randy and I prefer to travel in the late spring or early fall whenever we can—when the temperatures aren’t too hot and the kids are still in school. Traveling during off-peak times helps us to avoid some of the traffic, crowds, and noise. We’re old. That’s the only excuse I can give you. This year, we chose a week in April and got to work making the arrangements. For several years, we had planned a trip out West. We’d fly to Las Vegas, stay a few days, then rent a car and drive to the Grand Canyon.  Twice, we’ve had to cancel that trip because of things at home, so we went to Myrtle Beach in South Carolina.  I confess that it’s my fault that the Southwest trip got cancelled again. I don’t like to fly. I’m not afraid of flying.  I just don’t enjoy the hassle at the airports and the cramped seating arrangements. Flying back and forth seems like a waste of two good vacation days. I begged Randy to take a road trip instead.  Being agreeable to most anything, the hubby got out his laptop, maps, and atlas, and we mapped out a route. Neither of us had been to Myrtle Beach. We’ve been all through the South, but that’s one place we’d both missed visiting. It seemed like a great idea. The weather would be warm, but not too hot.  Traffic would be lighter in April, and the crowds would be thinner. We opted to split the trip down over two or three days, figuring that we’d stop and sightsee or shop along the way.  A town called Roanoke Rapids in North Carolina appeared to be a good stopping point for the first night.  It was about 250 miles down I-95, approximately halfway to Myrtle Beach. We looked up Roanoke Rapids on the internet, and the photos showed a beautiful little riverside town where folks enjoyed all manner of rafting on the Roanoke River. Randy swears that those photos were taken in 1926.  When we got to the city, we couldn’t even find the river, let alone a place to spend the night. We ended up in Rocky Mount in North Carolina the first night. Randy drove while I called different hotels to check on availability. We had booked a room at a nice inn and we were all set, when I realized that the reservation clerk had booked us a room in Rocky Mount, Tennessee. We eventually got that straightened out and arrived at the hotel in time for the complimentary warm cookies. One of my biggest gripes with any hotel bathroom is that the light isn’t good enough for someone with terrible eyesight to apply makeup. I always end up looking like a cross between an over-the-hill lady of the evening and Bozo the Clown. I call myself Bo-Ho. Add that to the fact that my curling iron died during the trip, and I was a real beaut. Since we were only a few hours’ drive from our final destination, we called and asked our hotel in Myrtle Beach if we could check in a day early. The clerk booked us in for another night, gave us a discount for staying an extra day (on top of the AARP discount, mind you), and told us to come in early to check in since the hotel wasn’t full. We arrived at our place in Myrtle Beach at 1:30 p.m. and checked in at 4:00 p.m., the regular check-in time. Our room wasn’t ready and the place was hopping. We were on the tenth floor, and the first night we were there, a horrible storm blew through.  I’ve never seen lightning like that; I swear, the whole building was shaking. Our hotel was inside a gated community with security guards monitoring incoming traffic. We had a private beach and a separate exercise facility with tennis courts, racquetball, and all kinds of classes.  Breakfast was included and cooked to order each morning, and the bar was open for several hours each evening with free drinks. Randy liked that we were within walking distance from Apache Pier, where he went fishing several times. Just outside our security gate was an outlet shopping center. The night before we left for our trip to Myrtle Beach, I was lamenting that I’d miss stopping at the Lenox outlet on Rt. 50, where I stop every time I go to Ocean City.  That same evening, Randy handed me the mail, and I had a coupon from Lenox. I was delighted to find that Myrtle Beach also had a Lenox outlet, and we packed the coupon in our folder of travel information. On Tuesday, we headed over to the outlets, but in the car I realized that we’d left the coupon in the folder on the desk in our suite’s living room. Randy, bless his heart, dropped me off and drove back to the hotel to get the coupon. When he handed it to me, I was embarrassed to tell him that the sale didn’t start for two more days, which was fine anyway because the Lenox outlet was twenty miles away in Conway. Our favorite place in all of Myrtle Beach was Barefoot Landing. We visited the winery store there and did the wine tasting—seven wines for $3.00.  A lovely southern lady named Wanda did the pouring, and the more she talked, the more she poured. I was getting warm all over when Randy pointed out that I had passed my seven tastes a LONG time ago. Whatever. I think I’ve mentioned before that I’m not much of a drinker, but I do like learning about the process of making wine and discovering just how uneducated my palate really is. My parents had a small grape arbor in the back of their property, and my dad used to make homemade wine. I have to laugh when I learn how the real wineries make their wines, because my dad used a big glass jug and cheesecloth down in the basement. Granted, his wine tasted like turpentine and no one drank it, but he had a big time making it. Randy enjoyed watching the huge fish and turtles that hung out in the water under the walkways at Barefoot Landing, waiting for the tourists to toss handfuls of food into the water. There were vending machines and fifty cents bought a handful of fish food. Randy didn’t have any change, so I unzipped my purse to get some quarters for him. The day was pretty windy, and the breeze grabbed a ten dollar bill that I had dropped in my purse after making a purchase. It all happened so quickly that neither of us could catch the money, and it went right into the water where a big carp promptly ate it. I hope he choked on it. All things considered, we had a nice time, which is a good thing, because when we got home, we found that both of our lawn mowers needed to be repaired, our brand new storage shed has a crack all the way across the floor, Randy’s dad was ill and spent a week in the hospital, and my mom had to have minor surgery.  We were only gone for a week…