A 5:00am wakeup time—becoming more common in the past few years—had me picking wallpaper images for my phone. This shot captures SO MUCH JOY for me. You know I’m serious because I wrote that in caps. Livia and I… mmm… invited ourselves along on my parents’ 50th anniversary trip to Sanibel Island last October and the location was absolutely dreamy. The water was just cool enough and the views were incredible. I found myself feeling more centered and at peace than I had been in a long time. My dad is walking in the background there, I’m admiring the world around me, and Liv, always the first to the sensory table in preschool, is shelling. Of course. We still bear loads of shells from the Gulf, months later, in frozen Nebraska.

I love my home. And I love to get away, especially to the ocean, and then I love to come home again.

This pic is giving me life today.

This morning I reached for the glass with the embossed emblem on it and smiled at its origin: Bubba Gump Shrimp Co at Universal Studios. Never has a simple glass—free with a specific meal that night—been so lovingly cared for as this one when we wrapped it in our clothes and hauled it back to Nebraska in our suitcases. It’s classier than it has any right to be, coming from this franchise of shrimp-y deliciousness. I laugh now remembering how Liv declared the restaurant’s shrimp the best in the world, this just a day or two after eating what was truly the best shrimp—fresh and incredible—off the Gulf Coast near Indian Rocks Beach. The seafood there! Oh. my. goodness. It was amazing. I can remember every meal I’ve had near the coast where I ate fresh seafood and I dream about it later (Port Townsend, Dungeness, San Francisco, Panama City Beach, St. Simon’s Island, and yes, the small towns just west of Tampa Bay). Bubba Gump Shrimp Co was—and is—a fun franchise, but it’s not the best. And that’s okay because I hold those memories of Universal Studies close to my heart.

Universal is no slacker when it comes to marketing. The very presence of their ads sent to my inbox illuminates my soul on these cloudy midwestern winter days. I click on the link and open up a page to a new hotel they’re sharing with the world. I read about the amenities and how close this place is to parks and then I flip over to Trip Adviser to see what average joes have to say about their travels. Am I going to Orlando anytime soon? Probably not. But you never know when an opportunity will arise for two 40-something best friends from Nebraska to find themselves on a magical getaway. Do we talk about a moms trip to the Magic Kingdom? About leaving our children behind and experiencing the joy of it on our own? Yes and yes. Ha! 

The trip to Florida that Jeremy, Livia, and I embarked on three years ago still sings in my heart a bit. That Florida sunshine in the middle of February. Did it know that this was the land of my birth? That somehow my soul is infused with its golden rays and the smell of the ocean and the sounds of waves crashing on the beach? Perhaps. We had days and days of new adventures together. Even our airport jaunts—catching our connecting flight to Orlando from the Phoenix airport due to a massive storm that altered our flight route a bit—even that was more fun together. We ate in airport restaurants, taking our time and enjoying the meals because, like a turtle, we had everything we needed right there in that space. No one was left behind. We rented our car in the middle of the night, found our not-so-great motel in the middle of the night, crashed on its two crappy mattresses and slept like the dead in the middle of the night. I moved into Liv’s bed at a random hour, abandoning Jeremy’s side while he tossed and turned, surprising my kid with cuddles the next morning. We stuffed ourselves with what was inexplicably an amazing breakfast at a close-by Denny’s, all of us drinking coffee and feeling the freedom of a new day.

I think of our drive across Florida, at the marvel that anyone could find themselves living in a state so narrow that one could easily enjoy TWO oceans in one day. Who lives like this? Are they aware of the luxury of the sea at their disposal? Jeremy, in the driver’s seat, me with a plugged-in iPhone navigating, and Liv in the back munching on whatever gas station treats we picked up as soon our Denny’s-stuffed tummies allowed. And then the Gulf of Mexico as it appeared in front of us, the splendor of it that brought tears to my eyes. Liv was the first on the beach, and she, the granddaughter of Claudia the Island Girl, took to it as though she was born and raised in such a space. Her eyes never stopped scanning the sand, her hands never quit picking up shells and seaweed, her smile and greetings never failing to engage the older women on their beach walks as they meandered past her. Liv was in her element. 

So many moments of this trip still continue to bring me joy. From the leis in our Orlando hotel as we entered its doors to the water taxi that took us to the amusement park. From the first sighting of Hogwarts (aaaa!) to the flights on broomsticks and motorcycles. From the doors of the Hello Kitty store to the sweet French bakery with the chocolate croissants. From the air-conditioned Tonight Show waiting area (“ew, PUPPIES”) to the odd-yet-entertaining Shrek experience. From the fast passes that allowed us to take the short lines to the service that delivered our souvenirs straight back to our hotel room on property  which felt ridiculously bougie—and I had no problem at all being bougie for two seconds—to meeting King Kong and Spiderman in some wild rides. We had a blast. Our times of fun were not without trouble and discomfort. Our feet ached. That one lunch was nasty. We were pulled aside too many times and there’s that yet-unwritten complaint about how they handle people with disabilities (oh dear goodness was that surprising and exasperating). We learned our kid, so adventurous years before at Disneyland, really doesn’t like rides and we had to work through that. We figured out how to still enjoy rides solo. That early early early morning Uber drive to the airport with the guy and his really interesting music choices—he hadn’t been to bed yet and we were just starting our day, meeting in the middle. That overeager TSA agent who barked at my husband rudely and pissed me off. All that was part of the trip, too. And all of that became memories that our little family could tell, stories that we will re-tell with laughter in coming years. 

We are not a frequently-vacationing family. Two-thirds of us are happily, delightfully, contentedly hobbits and prefer to stay at home. They ENJOY home. I fancy myself a worldly adventurer and yet I, too, when flying away from my comfortable bed and full pantry wonder why I would ever leave. But these times where we’ve gotten away and enjoyed the travels together? They are priceless. And they are enough to still fill my spirit years later on a cloud-laden day in January in quiet Lincoln, Nebraska. 

Last week I had a few hellish nights surrounding a much-anticipated trip with my girlfriend. If you hang in there with me for a sec I’m going to swing this conversation back around to the hot take culture we’re experiencing right now, particularly on social media. But the trip… oh the trip! I love to travel. I dream about traveling and I am instantly inspired by looking out a plane window or a car window onto new-to-me surroundings. Give me 75mph on a rural highway in Nebraska or a flight to Florida high above the clouds, the experience alone makes me giddy. I also have this other thing—and it’s a brain problem—and it’s called anxiety. My travel anxiety is further complicated by the very nature of type 1 diabetes, which demands I prepare for all contingencies in order to… well… in order to stay alive. Type 1 is a jerk like that.

So while I was tremendously excited to ditch town for a few days, my brain was freaking out a little. Or a lot really. I rolled over in bed the night before we left home and thought blearily, “Is today the day I get on a plane?” and after that I was wide awake. When you wake up at night and can’t sleep you play all kinds of games to try to either fall asleep or, at the very least, rest your body. It was only 3:00am, so I tried to be cool but I really was getting more amped up as each hour passed. Enter type 1 diabetes and before long my body started burning ketones.

Ketones are chemicals that build up when your body starts to burn fat for energy. Sounds good until you read a bit more and learn that in T1 diabetics a build-up of ketones can lead to Diabetic Ketoacidosis (DKA) which, if left untreated, can lead to a coma or death. I’ve had DKA before and it was tremendously scary. I’ll do anything to avoid it, which is why, when my body started producing ketones—likely due to stress—in the early morning hours before I boarded a plane, I got more stressed. I also started tending to myself. Gone was the carefree and excited feeling of getting to travel, and present was the need to pound liquids, deal with nausea without actually vomiting, dose insulin to flush the ketones, and try to eat a few carbs to give myself something else to burn. This was not my first rodeo. I struggled to eat; my toast tasted like cardboard in my scared, dry mouth. I struggled to drink and ran to a gas station for a sugar-free Powerade. I pounded the sidewalks out front in 19 degree weather in order to get the blood flowing and do something with my energy. All the while I kept checking for ketones (aka peed on a stick), kept pricking my finger for my glucose, and managed to pack up my 9th grader and wish her a good day. Yes, I did feel like throwing up while driving her to school but I was determined to send her off. It’s amazing what a little determination will do. When I got into Maralee’s minivan for the drive to the airport I looked like death. Already really pale, I was a ghostly shade of pale at that point. I caught her up to speed and suggested that if I wasn’t clear of ketones by the time we hit the airport she should drop me at the hospital and go on her way without me. (I’m certain she wasn’t excited about that option, for many reasons.) My protocol for self-treatment worked beautifully, however, and though I was way behind on sleep, I righted the ship and had zero ketones a hour later. We got on the plane, I crashed in a nap, and we landed to start our adventures. This story was essentially repeated two more times over the course of our four nights away. Two more nights of anxiety, illness, and stress. Two more days with hard crashes into morning naps. And yet, we made loads of memories. So really, I won!

I write all this down to say that my body is unique. I have type 1 diabetes and a few other doozies in the autoimmune department, and until Maralee was witness to every little blood sugar and insulin pump and ketone issue for five days straight, I didn’t think about how much energy it takes to simply live. That’s my life with diabetes. It requires nitty-gritty, hands-on babysitting day in, day out.

People in newstories, people in your newsfeed, friends, enemies, whoever… their needs are unique as well. Before you issue your hot take online—and by that I mean your opinion—take a minute and consider, what do I really know about their story? Am I the best person to comment on their needs? If not, how can I say something encouraging and true rather than critical?

Some of you in the midwest may have heard a KETV news story about a little girl in Iowa who fell asleep on a bus recently. The bus driver didn’t walk back to make sure all children were unloaded and the little one’s morning bus ride went from a 30 minute routine to an hour and 10 minutes. She spent an extra 40 minutes riding the bus. That’s not the worst thing for the average kid, but for this child it was a very bad thing. This little one has a rare form of diabetes where she swings from low glucoses to high ones without any warning. I think I read that she can’t take any insulin without dropping dangerously low.

What I witnessed on Facebook was a surprising number of commenters who were angry with the girl’s mother for raising a stink about her daughter being left on the bus. Without reading the article, without listening to the story, they commented and judged her. They assumed this child was an average child without any special needs. And even when the mother—a single mom, as it turned out, with epilepsy and no husband and no family support close by—began to defend herself in the comment section, people were still terribly rude.

Yes, online commenting is notoriously nasty. But it doesn’t have to be. And it’s not just Facebook, it’s everywhere. I cannot stand being on Twitter because I feel like people are just punching each other there. If I guard my Instagram account it’s a relatively nice place to be. But I’m not content with this and I want to talk about it. WE ARE ALL UNIQUE AND YOU DON’T KNOW EVERY STORY.

Even on my diabetes support groups, which are often a really cozy and encouraging space on the internet, I’m finding folks who simply go for the hot take. Instead of perhaps supporting a person’s desire to stockpile some meds or pantry items in case this coronavirus spreads to the US, they are harping on **fellow* diabetics saying this virus is no different from the flu. And yet, they don’t know which T1 also has RA and is on meds which suppress her immune system (raising my hand). Autoimmune issues tend to run in packs, but even if that wasn’t so, which T1s are also on dialysis? Which ones are caring for elderly parents with lung problems? Which ones have survived cancer and have depressed immune systems? I could go on and on.

The truth is, your judgement is hurtful and your judgement is unwelcome.

Before you type, stop for a minute and ask yourself, why am I writing this? How might the original poster interpret my comment? If there’s a chance it could be perceived as hurtful, perhaps I should hold off. And if it’s something that needs to be said, should I take this to a private venue?

I’ve been thinking about that mom in Iowa and I’ve wanted to contact her to share a bit of love. Her life sounds hard. Imagine having epilepsy and then having a medical tricky child who you have to put on a bus each day to get to school. Imagine the fear of wondering if she might drop too low or shoot so high she needs to be hospitalized or worse, dies. Imagine trusting the bus driver to do his job and then he, for whatever reason, messes up. Imagine all the worries of a normal parent and than multiply those by a hundred, or by a thousand.

Honestly, I don’t know what to do about my issues with anxiety and travel. I’ve spent several summers in therapy with different therapists working on the issue and yet, here I am after a particularly bad (yet marvelously wonderful) trip. I survived it, but I’m not going to travel again until I have some more solutions. Therapy, better drugs, whatever; I’m game for whatever works. What I do know is that I’ll keep pressing on towards hope because I truly truly love traveling and I want to see the world. We figure out how to do what we love to do, even when it’s not convenient or simple. All I’m asking for today is a bit more grace, a bit more patience… and a heart and typing fingers that give up the hot take in order to truly see another human behind the screen.

I spend most of the year dreaming of travel and planning, simultaneously, a dream trip as well as the next actual trip. So then it always takes me aback when it’s time to pack and I start feeling a sense of dread about the whole endeavor. I get nervous about the unknowns, I am unsure of exactly what clothing items will be appropriate, and I question the wisdom of the whole affair. Basically, I go from Adventure Lover to total and complete Hobbit. I look around my home and wonder why I’d ever leave it. But then the magic comes back to me as soon as the horizon opens up and I am driving or flying to new places. Inspiration hits. Words start coming back to me, I wish for a camera in my hand, and the sweetness of it all floods in. This last week was precisely what I wrote above—that common mixture of excitement, dread, and fulfillment once more.

This trip, however, involved my entire family and as we drove west on I-80 I’d say we felt a bit like a speedier version of a turtle or a snail—we had everything we needed with us. No man was left behind, and we carried all we wanted in our family car. As the resident Travel Dreamer, I’m the one that usually goes while the others stay, but not this time. We were all together. And since we were all together, we were a mishmash of relational issues, all entangled in the relatively small square footage of our Nissan Altima.

Road trips are an interesting thing, aren’t they? There’s this imaginary family we all have in mind who all hear the call of the open road and somehow they look cool pursuing it. But friends, I don’t know that actual family. Reality looks much more like a thousand personalities, moods, wishes, irritations, attitudes, and opinions crammed into a small space. One person has to pee while another never wants to stop. Another can’t sit ONE MORE MINUTE on her road-weary bottom and wants utter silence in the vehicle while the others are up for a dance party at 75mph. One thinks it’s entertaining to regale the car with how very much she loves the scenery while another is loudly eating the entire canister of Pringles in one sitting. Mom is focused on obsessively throwing out trash at every single pit stop while Dad is annoyed the Horse Lovers of Colorado have decided to parade down Main Street right this very moment as he’s trying to leave town. Family road trips might be about togetherness, but I think they’re a test. During the bulk of the year families can spread out a little bit more, but on a road trip, it’s work-it-out time. The good, bad, and the ugly all come out and you’re forced to deal with it all. It’s healthy, even though it’s not always pretty. The next time you’re tempted to wish you looked like that uber cool traveling family, don’t. I promise you such a thing doesn’t exist because in real life there’s always someone who has to stop and use the restroom. In real life, there’s chip crumbs all over the once-clean car seats. But potty breaks and crumbs can’t dissuade you from making memories. So in the car you go. And last week that’s what we did. From Lincoln to Denver to Estes Park and back to Lincoln once more. And I’m so so happy we made these memories together.

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros sing it best: Home is wherever I’m with you.

I struggle greatly with travel anxiety. As much as I love to go to new places and experience new things, I have a hard time doing it on my own. It’s less about extroversion and more about chronic conditions that can get weird in a heartbeat. (Diabetes, I am TOTALLY talking about you, you punk.) I play a game called “worse case scenario” that sometimes helps me, but when I go alone, the anxiety is there. My brain is constantly trying to figure out how to keep my body safe and I end up being on high alert for hours on end, if not the entire trip. Not my fave.

Last week I had the enormous privilege of traveling, much like a turtle, with my home with me. Though we lacked the creature comforts of our own beds and pillows—Jeremy’s biggest problem—and our own bedroom doors that shut–Liv’s biggest problem–all of us expressed pure joy that we were **together**. Team Tredway. There’s an unexpected tidiness of this only-child situation where we can easily share one room together, we can easily sit by each other on plane rides, and we can share in adventures now that Livia is older. It is tremendously sweet. We were not without the very human struggles that families have, but we were highly aware of the fun of an adventure together.

At some point I realized the intense lack of anxiety I was experiencing with my family with me. And what. a. relief. Airplanes and airports became more fun. Plane delays were no big deal, and schedule changes were met with flexible spirits. I had no parental guilt of leaving a kid behind because she was with me! And bonus, I had my BFF-husband the entire time. As I write this I recognize how often I travel without them, too. And that can be a good thing as well.

The Beach

Like I mentioned in the last post, I crave the beach. There were many moments in the planning of this vacation where I questioned the logistics of hitting up a beach and Universal Studios in one fell swoop. But considering the relative nearness of Orlando to not one body of water, but two, well… it seemed the right time to push on and make plans for a little beachside R&R. I should add here that planning a very REBECCA type of vacation felt selfish a lot of the time. However, my closest friends encouraged me to do what I wanted to do—and I’m so glad for their insights here.

I chose the Gulf side of Florida for a few reasons. The biggest was that I wanted to watch the sun set over the water. We Treds are not normally awake for sunrises, which ruled out the Atlantic side. Also, I can’t recall visiting the Gulf in a very long time. From there I tried to figure out which beaches were closest to Orlando, which ones were easiest to access for a family from Nebraska. And after that, I was simply searching for affordable housing for a few days. AirBnb was the clear winner in finding a place for the three of us to sleep, and I quickly settled on Matthew’s sweet little condo on Belleair Beach because it looked straight out onto the weather. No roads were between us and the beach. Just the water and sky right outside the back door. GLORIOUS.

As we drove over the Belleair Causeway Bridge I teared up getting my first view of the ocean. What I didn’t expect was how excited Livia was too! As soon as we reached the condo she was off and running for the beach. In the end, she spent hours and hours combing the beach for shells. I would look up from my book and see her conversing with an older woman about shell patterns or simply laying on the crushed-shell sands and letting the waves lap over her feet. She felt as drawn to the water as I did.

We had very limited time at the beach condo, but we made the most of the it. The first day we picked up coffee and chocolate croissants from a little French bakery in Indian Rocks Beach, explored that stretch of beach, and then drove up and around Clearwater Beach. The white sands are at Clearwater. By 10:00am that day the beach was starting to fill up. I would always situate myself facing the water, but it was clear that true sun-lovers knew to position their chairs for the most equal sunbathing experience possible. What I love about public beaches is that every type of human being is represented there. It is nothing like opening up a People magazine or watching an episode of The Bachelor. Nope. A little cellulite turns out to be no big deal whatsoever on the beach. I love that. Besides enjoying seashells and ocean sounds, we also ate as much seafood as our bellies could hold. Shrimp plain, fried, and in pasta. Fish sandwiches. Seafood chowders. Everything was fair game. It was amazing.

Universal Studios

Though it was hard to drive inland and leave the ocean behind me, I’m glad we had Vacation Part 2 to look forward to with eager anticipation. The second half of our week in Florida was focused on The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios. I was student teaching my last semester of college when the Harry Potter book series was gaining popularity. Overwhelmed by my student and teaching responsibilities, I made it through part of Book 2 before setting them aside for many years. When it came time to read it again, I asked Jeremy to order me the entire series—and then I consumed it and cried when it was all over. Since then I’ve eagerly waited for the day we could visit Harry Potter World, and that day was last week.

My friend Jess hooked me up with her favorite travel agent—–Jennifer Van Hill of Key to the World Travel—and I’m so grateful for Jennifer’s help. She is the Queen of Orlando Travel and handled the details of our time at Universal Studios. We dropped off our rental car at the airport and took an Uber to Loew’s Royal Pacific Resort. The rest was planned out by Jennifer. And it was superb.

We stayed “on property” at Universal due to our experience at Disneyland four years ago with our friends the Bradleys. Staying on resort grounds usually means you get specific perks—and also close proximity to the fun—so that seemed easiest for my family’s needs. The huge perk at Universal is that you get an Express Pass with your room key. Basically, you get to wait in the fast line and thus fly past all the others in the, uh, slow line. It’s awesome. Your room key also earns you an extra hour of park time (it changes, but this month the extra hour was in Hogwarts) and that, too, is awesome if you’re a big HP fan. The Royal Pacific hotel was pretty darn fantastic. It felt luxurious. The pool and hot tub were just beautiful. The restaurants there created delicious meals, and the concierges knew—and were excited about—everything at Universal. The front desk gave us Hawaiian leis as we checked in, and that was a fun, unanticipated details that reminded me how I originally wanted to celebrate my 40th in Hawaii, but here we were in Florida, getting the sweet Hawaiian treatment. My favorite thing about the hotel were the water taxis that took us to the central part of “CityWalk,” the restaurant and shopping district at the opening gates of Universal’s theme parks. There’s something delightfully relaxing about taking a boat between your hotel and what will be a very busy day on your feet at the parks.

I’ll close up this description of Universal with some park tips:
– It’s helpful to do some number-crunching to see if staying on-property is worth it for your family.
– Jennifer gave us lanyards for our room keys and park keys. So helpful. At check-in’s you simply scan your lanyard. Also, anything purchased in the parks can be sent to the front of the park for easy pickup at the end of the day… or, if you have a room key, charged to your room and then sent BACK to your room. Yes yes yes. Loved that feature.
– The Chocolate Emporium is a giant restaurant with food and desserts in CityWalk. The wait staff dresses up in steampunk costume. You can go straight up to the bar and order dessert there without waiting in line. We recommend this place 100%.
– Why yes, I did tear up when entering the Hogwarts area. It was amazing.
– Butterbeer is served cold, warm, and frozen. We tried the first two and if I wasn’t a type 1 diabetic I’d have scorned water and only consumed warm butterbeer while there. Happiness in a cup (not a pint, only a little disappointing).
– Buy an interactive wand for your kid. It’s pretty magical.
– Ollivander’s shop was awesome.
– If your kid isn’t big enough for rides or simply doesn’t like them, utilize the Child Swap rooms. This feature is just The Best. You wait in line as a family and one parent jumps on a ride while the family waits in the Child Swap room. Jump off the ride, swap with your partner, and with no waiting the other parent gets to ride. Note: a child has to be age 14 to wait alone. Not 13 and three-quarters. I mean, she’s almost completely and totally and truly 14, but she’s also very honest and I’m 100% sure she wouldn’t have fudged the truth. (Can you tell one Tredway wasn’t enamored with roller coasters? Oh well.)
– Diagon Alley was simply fantastic. Definitely look for Knockturn Alley—which is kinda creepy, very dark, and literally cool temperature-wise.
– The candy we bought in Diagon Alley was super lame. Resist the urge to buy some (a la all the Hogwarts students) and spend your money on more butterbeer.
– LOCKER USAGE. There’s all sorts of misinformation about Universal lockers online. Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal. Bring a smallish backpack if you want, and on the big rides just know you’ll need to utilize a **free** locker of the duration of the ride. Send one person into the locker room, and go straight for a computer screen. Follow touchscreen instructions and use the locker they give you. Easy peasy. Note: you need fingers for this task.
– Hogwarts is in one park; Diagon Alley is in the other. You need a park-to-park pass to go back and forth, which you can do via the Hogwarts Express. Take the train both directions as the ride is slightly different each time.
– The rest of the Universal Studios is a blast as well. Our favorite family ride was definitely Race Through New York Starring Jimmy Fallon.
– Expect personality glitches when your family does theme parks altogether. Tears, frustration, achy feet, selfish attitudes—they will all arise. Take deep breaths and be prepared to issue lots of grace.
– It is worth saving up your pennies to make memories on a family vacation like this one. Sure, Universal Studios is not for everyone, but it was pretty magical for my family and I don’t think we’ll ever regret going. We’re not big vacation people, but this was one for the memory books. I’m glad we did it.

We flew to Florida last week for a family vacation to celebrate my recent milestone of a birthday. Yes yes, I am now 40. Forty and proud. A few events (finals! work conflicts!) prevented us from traveling on my actual birthday in December, but in the end I was very happy with the idea of traveling in February. February tends to be a hard month for me. I am exasperated by the cold temperatures of a midwestern winter and I long for spring. I know some people don’t mind being holed up indoors for several months, but I have a summer-loving heart inside of me. My soul is revived by sunshine and green things. And beyond that, I am an ocean girl. I constantly long for salt water and waves. Even my hair looks better in the humidity next to water.

I began saving money for a 40th birthday trip several years ago. After weighing pros and cons of many warm-weather locations, we ended up venturing to Florida for a few days on the ocean and a few days of Orlando theme park fun. I plan to write a bit more about the specifics of our trip just in case someone reading is interested in how we made it all work. But for now I will report back that a week spent in shorts and capris, sandals and lightweight jackets, sunglasses and sunscreen… well, it was just what the doctor ordered. We are now back in the land of single-digit temps and cold feet, but the warmth of a Florida winter is still glowing in my heart. It was a good week. A very good week. I am one grateful 40 year old.

One last note… I love this image above. The sweeping sky above the incredible ocean. The way Livia, in the distance, is in the light. It speaks to me.

Our first leg of the trip involved getting up at 3:00am to catch a 5:00am flight out of Omaha. We bested this start time on our return flight, which left Seattle at 5:00am and had us all waking up at 1:45am. But we successfully did it and no one died. Yay us! One strategy for traveling with good attitudes is to travel with friends. A lot of smiles are shared, even when brushing your teeth dorm-room style before 2:00am.

Marc and Kerri have the most beautiful views from their home. From the front deck you can see the Puget Sound and, if the skies are clear, the Cascades beyond it. Behind their home is an old golf course path, perfect for walking the dog or taking in some fresh air.

My soul is deeply refreshed by salt water. Thank you, Jesus.

It’s not vacation without the proper snacks. Doughnuts are a welcome addition to any excursion.

Flowers everywhere. The Pacific Northwest does flowers WELL.

Jen brought a good camera on the trip. I can’t wait to see what she captured. I shot everything with my iPhone this time around.

We hiked up to Marymere Falls in Olympic National Park. It felt like the perfect little hike for our afternoon. After that we walked over to Lake Crescent Lodge and ordered drinks to enjoy on their front porch. The trees, wildlife, cabins, lodge and lakeside views were absolutely incredible. Visiting this part of the world is like pressing a refresh button on my heart.

These shots were taken, oh, four months ago. Yes, I am just now getting around to posting them. I present to you: a bunch of Lawtons at the Topeka Zoo. Also, lorikeets.