I found fried heaven. It exists at Price’s Chicken Coop in Charlotte. We had AMAZING fried chicken there back in oh, July. The sides left a little to be desired, but the chicken was hands down, the best I’ve ever had. Pete inhaled a few pieces before we’d even made it out of Charlotte. (The goal was to take the chicken to my grandparents’ for lunch.) I think I can safely say we will make more trips there in the future.
We also had a great trip to Grand Bahama island in July. Pete’s company had a retreat there for four days, but we extended our trip to last all week. We lounged about the pool at the resort for a few days before agreeing that we are not resort people. We like a little adventure with our travel and little less of people we can see at Disneyland. My mom met us for the last part of the trip because we thought Pete would be working the whole time and I’d need a playmate (it ended up Pete skipped most of his work stuff except the required things on one day). Needless to say, it didn’t take a lot of persuading to get her to meet us in the Bahamas (and a non-stop flight from Charlotte didn’t hurt either).
After complaining about the food and annoying people for the first half of the week, we decided we needed to rent a car and explore the island – cost and driving on the opposite side of the road be damned. Thank god we did. You know when you’re a teenager and all you can think about is how much freedom you’ll have when you get a car? It’s true. We take it for granted, but the car opened up another world for us.
Luckily, in my zealous over-planning, I found a list of must-see things on the island. One, was Gold Rock Beach located in Lucaya National Park. We had to drive about 30 minutes to get to the park, which didn’t look like a park or even parking lot. I had to beg and convince Mom and Pete that it was indeed the park. After parking, we had to walk 15 minutes or more through a swamp out to the beach. It was hotter than hell, and I was 6 months pregnant carrying my little furnace with me (that is to say, I over heated in about 3 minutes). After admiring the mangroves and hermit crabs on route to the beach, we came upon the dunes. We crested the dunes and beheld the Bahamas of the ad campaigns. The beach exceeded all expectations of beautiful places.
And I thought my belly was big here... hahaha...
We spent the remainder of the week driving back to Gold Rock Beach and Banana Bay, where we could literally walk out for hundreds of yards. We found local food that was much better than the food at the resort, but still not great. The Bahamas are not known for their food especially since they are basically sandy islands with no good soil to grow crops.
Between all the travel and work and growing of a baby, I was exhausted. Plus, I read in a few blogs about how they hated their life being on display. So, I stopped writing. I’m on maternity leave now, and adjusting to a life without a schedule. I hardly know what to do with myself. Last week, I was at the farmers’ market racing from vendor to vendor when it hit me, where exactly was I racing to? It wasn’t like the apple guy was going to run out of apples or the melon guy melons. And if they did, someone else would have some. I am so used to rushing that I couldn’t slow down.
I spent last week running around at the markets buying food to cook and freeze, Babies R Us, Target, Ikea, the bookstore plus doctor’s appointments that I hardly noticed I wasn’t working. This week, with a freezer full of food and clothes washed, I am finding myself at a loss of things to do. And of course almost all of my friends work so I can’t call them to play with.
I said to Pete that it was hard to adjust to having no routine and that I needed to create one. He said it was pointless because in a few days or weeks, I’d have to create a new one. So, I am doing what I can to enjoy having no schedule, no routine and nothing other than doctor’s appointments to worry about.
In the meantime, I have time to write again so I’ll try to be diligent about posting once again. Or at least until the baby comes.
