Today will be a good day for driving. I woke up wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, as my mom used to say all throughout my childhood, and ready to take on the happiest month of all. August. With August not only comes real scorching temperatures here in Florida (perfect sun=perfect tan), but also back to school! Those three words used to make me cringe back when I had braces and bony legs, but now the phrase makes me leap for joy. Nothing makes me happier than knowing that in 13 short days, I’ll be rolling down The Avenue up to my fairytale castle I like to call LeMans Hall.
But until then…
After spending three weeks in the Big City, I have been quite content taking daily jaunts over to New Smyrna Beach. The ocean is the most beautiful thing on the planet, if you ask me, so I don’t exactly have many complaints. When I see the waves crashing against the shore, a sort of peace comes about me. It’s strange because really the ocean is the opposite of peaceful. It’s wild and unpredictable and salty. I love it. With a good book, (may I recommend Adriana Trigiani’s Big Stone Gap…) and an ice-cold Publix sweet tea, I am the happiest girl on the peninsula.
The most important thing I’ve learned about August is that it, like the ocean is unpredictable. For most people, August is all about back-to-school shopping and scheduling. For my family, it’s usually the time when my dad has a few random days off and decides to haul us somewhere for a hot second. In 2011, we spent two days in Paris…honestly, who goes to Paris for two days? Like I said, Happy August!
So it was no surprise to me when, like most August 1sts, my dad called this morning and exclaimed to my mom, “Happy August, family, we’re taking a spontaneous road trip to the keys!”
My plan for August was to write every single day, which I was doing until dad called and now we are all running around the house, frantically packing anything that resembles a bikini or sunscreen. But nothing makes for better writing than adventures, right? As I was writing about the day I walked along the Hudson River Park in NYC, a new excitement presented itself and all I can say is thank God for pens and my little journal because now I’ll be piling more sloppy handwriting on to the torn pages. And no, I will not be packed and ready when my dad rolls up to the house to whisk us away. Happy August!
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