Saturday, September 3, 2011

Day 74 There IS a Reason to Smile

Vacation is over and after spending too many hours in a car to get to a hotel, I've found it difficult to find much about which to smile! That sounds horrible, I know. I'm sure most people wouldn't be doing cartwheels to return home from sun, beach and pool, but to say I can't find anything worthy of happy thoughts is a tad ridiculous.

After packing up the car, or should I say, cramming everything from swim fins to fishing gear, seashells to driftwood, we headed out.

--By the way, the fins were great this week! They really kept the kids afloat while they practiced swimming and boy did those little urchins of mine have a blast in that pool! So, did I with our little aquatic triathlons.--

--Now, that fishing gear did me no good this time! I got nothing... Well, I did get some relaxation, peace and quiet.--

--And those shells are perfect! The kind you buy in stores everywhere else were lining the shore that was close to untouched by tourists. When we gave one to my Grandma, she lit up over it's uniqueness.--

--While I don't know where my husband found that cool piece of driftwood, I cannot wait to put it up on my wall!--

Anyway, we headed out for breakfast and a quick shopping trip to Ridemakerz and Build-A-Bear. Then it was time to hit the road.

--It was fun watching my son pick out his perfect vehicle. He knew just what he wanted and put it together with ease. Then he talked the ears off of a fellow who was also waiting for a Build-A-Bear shopper about the vehicle he created. And my daughter! She picked out the cutest little bunny and clothed her in such girly attire. So typical of my little princess. They loved it all!--

Well, we drove on and made our way to the halfway point and here I sit in the hotel bed, blogging about my unhappy day. Actually, just writing out my day has brought back a lot of memories of the trip. Memories that brought on a true smile. I suppose I need to stop selling my days short from now on and just let the smiles flow.

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