OBX.

So, when we first moved to North Carolina, we started seeing stickers on cars. You know--the oval ones with black letters. They're everywhere. But all the ones here said the same thing: OBX.

It stands for Outer Banks.

But the Outer Banks are 7 hours from us. We could be to Washington DC in the same amount of time. Or only an hour from DisneyWorld. So we've never gone.

Besides--what's the big deal? A beach is a beach, right??? How great can it be?

Well.

We finally went.

And we loved it.

So, since I searched high and low for all the "best things to do, see, and eat" and couldn't find a good, concise list anywhere--here is mine.

Don't Miss (if you do nothing else, do these, and if you don't do them--lie and tell me you did...)

Currituck Lighthouse (I totally recommend climbing it) and the shops nearby.

Pig Man's Barbecue (oh. my. lawsie. I would drive 7 hours just for this. Eastern Carolina style heaven.)

Fishing on Nag's Head Pier at sunset. (You pay $10.00 for a 24 hour pass and rent a pole. You can buy tackle. Just to walk on the pier is $1.50 and it's cool to see what people catch.)

Kayaking the Pamlico Sound and exploring the waterfront of Manteo. (We loved this. So much.)

Best beach? We loved Currituck and Duck best.

Nice, but optional:

Bodie Lighthouse and Hatteras Lighthouse (I was surprised that I didn't love these more. Bodie Island was the cooler of the two, oddly enough.)

Roanoke Island Festival Park (We really liked this a lot, and the Adventure section was perfect for little kids. If you've got the time, I recommend.)

Owen's Restaurant in Nag's Head (I mean, it was good. But average entree was $25+. I thought it was a bit expensive for what you got.)

The Wright Brothers Memorial (The most impressive part, to me, was the monument. I loved the engraving: "Conceived by genius, achieved by dauntless resolution and unconquerable faith." Awesome.)

Jockey Ridge State Park (With teenagers? A blast. With little kids? A drag. The picnic sites were nice, though.)

The reasons we'll go back?

To see Ocracoke.

Midsummer's Eve...

The days are hot now.

In a lot of ways, it feels like August, but it's only June.

It's the kind of heat that makes you lay on the living room floor with the fan on, eating a popsicle, and listening to Christmas carols on i-tunes.

Not that I do that.

But sometimes, instead of fighting the heat, all the time, I remind myself to just be embraced by it. To turn my face to the sun, let the waves rise off the pavement and curve around my legs and shoulders and face, and enjoy it. And while I can't do it for very long, it's pretty amazing for a few moments to be on the receiving end of so much light and warmth. Magic.

Magic how, in the summer, even when the sun goes down--other lights just come out to play.

Happy Midsummer, to you and yours.

North Carolina

When people come to visit me here, they always say something to the effect of "North Carolina isn't how I pictured it." When I ask them what they did picture, they can never quite say... but it isn't this.

I had never been to North Carolina before I moved here, either. And it surprised me, too. What did I expect? Well. Honestly? Nascar, smokers, rednecks, trailer parks, fried food, snakes, and humidity. I think that pretty much sums it up.

But now I'm in my sixth year here, and I am happy to say that I continue to be delightfully surprised.
By the darting, disappearing tails of bunnies across my lawn.
By flashes of red and the call of songbirds.
By the soft curve and rise and fall of fields of corn, wheat, okra, soy, and cotton.
By the unending parade of blossoms that begins in March and continues through the summer: Bradford pear, dogwood, azalea, rhododendron, japonica, and crepe myrtle.
By the spiciness that accompanies the return of humidity.
By summer fogs, when I still think that fog should be something that happens in the winter.
By the first cool humidity-free breeze in the fall.

There's something magical about a place that is so unexpected.
You never know what you'll find next.

Bummer.

For the past two days, I have been up in the mountains of North Carolina.

You know, Appalachia is a special place. And it isn't just the charming street names like "Possum Trot" or "Bodwich Bottom" that give it such allure. No, while those are lovely bonuses unto themselves, it is really the view that captures your heart.

Because, really, it's worth the drive just to observe A Century of Cars, all in people's front yards. I was also, of course, SO glad to see that there are places in our great nation where young men can go to their local McDonalds in overalls. I can imagine that my joy is overshadowed, somewhat, by the people who are welcomed with open arms at BBQ establishments sporting signs that say "SMOKERS WELCOME."

You heard 'em right. They can make whatever laws they want in Raleigh, but up here?? You are WELCOME.

(This flies in the face of the sign I saw on a restaurant in South Carolina recently that was going smoke-free due to "an overwhelming healthy consciousness." I have no idea what that means. "Smokers welcome" at least makes sense.)

We stayed at a tiny little mountain inn that was built only 20 years ago, but made to resemble a MUCH older building. Complete with wood burning stoves, very thin walls, and snoring Scottish tourists. We contributed to the ambiance, as we love to do, by bringing in small children that run up and down the halls, slam doors, and a one year old that wails hourly, on cue, throughout the night.

I am assured that old people don't sleep well at night anyway, so I wasn't really worried about disturbing them.

The capstone of our trip had to be the visit to the North Carolina Arboretum, with a special exhibit called "The Scoop on Poop." You might think that just because nothing is blooming, the greenhouses are closed, and everything looks completely depressing and lifeless, it might be better to wait to visit the Aboretum. But then you would miss your chance to learn about feces, take hilariously posed pictures by placing your face in a cutout of someone reading a book in an outhouse, and give in to the temptation to scratch and sniff the "SNIFF HERE" stickers on the exhibits. We even got to race dung beetles pushing balls of "dung."

My trip was complete.