Table Topic Tuesday. 9/24.

Hi, y’all. Another Tuesday, another Table Topic.

Here’s the question:


I’ve lived near both. I’ve lived in South Carolina’s upstate, near the foothills of the Blue Ridge, where you can breathe in the fresh breath of four distinct seasons. I’ve lived in South Carolina’s low country, where rivers and estuaries weave through salt marshes to the Atlantic and the air is thick enough to slice. Now, the gulf coast is home. The sand is a white welcome mat, humidity has its own zip code, there are four degrees of summer. And I love it.

St. Pete

See, the mountains are dignified old souls, a great escape. But they’re a little aloof, reclusive, lonely, even? And freakin cold. They don’t really speak to the E in me. The beach is wide-open, never-ending summer. One giant, sunny possibility with no end in sight. And there’s the water, a pretty rad perk for a Pisces.

I pick the beach–unless you count the three mountains of the Magic Kingdom.

Big Thunder Mountain
Disney Digression
Disney Digression 2
Disney Digression 2
Disney Digression 3
Disney Digression 3

These beautiful bloggers weighed in, too.

Javi says:

Is this even a choice? The beach. Are you kidding? Who doesn’t want to live on the beach? Bears want to live at the beach. The only reason they don’t is because they think they are not in bathing suit ready. Bears have terrible self-esteem. It’s a fact.

In fact, my biggest problem with the mountain is the lack of beach. Besides that, they are quite pleasant. But the beach has SO MUCH BEACH! It’s like it is hoarding all the beach. Selfish beach. With all its beach. That’s why the mountains have to look down on the beach all the time. Because it is the only way the mountains can pretend to feel good about themselves, by trying to act like they are above the beach. And then by actually being above the beach. It’s all very complicated… but the balance of nature is all based on emotion.

Everything would be better if it had a beach. Hospitals. Dentist offices. The DMV. All totally manageable if there were a beach there. The only place that wouldn’t benefit from the beach is Walmart. For all that is good and holy please don’t think about what you would see at Walmart beach. You can’t unsee it. Quick! Try to wash the thought of Walmart beach from your mind. Don’t let your brain wander down that rabbit hole. Once you cross that line I can’t lead you back. No! NOOOOOO!!!!

Ashlie says:

This is the easiest question in the world for me…the beach hands down! Or toes down in the sand! I am a salt life kind of girl. I seriously think you can shake the sand from your shoes but not from your soul. The harmonious sound of crashing waves, the distant horizon meeting an endless sea of emerald and turquoise, the salty sweet smell of fresh ocean air, and the soft white sand squishing between my toes as my feet feel each lap of the waves…yes I’m a faithful beach bum. There is something about the beach that washes away worry and brings in a feeling of serenity. It truly is my paradise.

Lindsay says:

I’m pretty lucky. I’ve lived by some of the greatest beaches in the U.S. On a good day, it only takes me about 25 minutes until I’m toe-to-toe with Clearwater’s tide. And a six-month stint in Fort Lauderdale allowed me a two-mile bike ride before I hit ocean. But I’m a wanderer. My moving patterns mirror and surpass any modern day gypsy. I’ve always been told that change is a good thing, and life is the mountains — for even just a while — has always been on my bucket list. I’ll report back with my final answer once I get out there.
My sister Lindsey says:
Beach – no question. While the mountains are pretty to look at, I can’t help but think cold weather – which I don’t do. I always equate the beach with vacation and relaxing- even if it’s a day trip. There is something soothing about the waves: the live version of my nephews’ sound/sleep machine. While the crisp air in the mountains is refreshing it will suffice as a once in a while visit.
Okay. You’re up. Mountains or beach?

Table Topic Tuesday. 7/23.

Happy Tuesday, y’all. It’s already Table Topic Tuesday time.

Drum roll, please……


This is a fun question. I’ve officially been driving more than half my life. Gulp. So, there were a lot of roads to retrace. Highways, tunnels, bridges, dirt roads, non roads. And there’s a lot of beautiful in my rear view.

There were many miles logged on the Blue Ridge Parkway.


Salt-of-the-earth simple. The biggest quiet you’ll ever hear. Yummiest air you’ll ever breathe.

Parkway 2

Now that I’m gone to Carolina in my memory’s lane, let’s go to the South Carolina Low Country. Here, we were lucky locals. We drove down the Battery, but we also biked it, at least once a month. This street is the stuff Southern stories are made of.


“Beautiful” is flexible word, right? I think I can stretch it to cover this guy.

south of the border

Seeing him means we’re en route to reunite with family or friends.

And I’m always in awe every single time we drive into THE city.

NY city

Although my best drive, as a passenger, was in a Tomorrowland Speedway race car. That was a beautiful thing.

Disney Digression
Disney Digression

Now as a Floridian, I feel like all of Florida is one palm tree-lined postcard. Even my commute is lovely.

And, shocker, I’m going to totally sap out. But there’s one road I’m always the most happy to turn down and that’s the one that goes home.


It’s always paved with promise.

the hood

And here’s Lindsay. ( I love this.)

I love and dislike this question. It makes me thankful for all the beautiful places I’ve been lucky enough to visit, but sad because all I really want to do right now is hop in my car and pay them a visit again.
One of my favorite drives to take is down the 1 mile private road to my grandparents’ lake house in New Jersey. The lake off to the right. The houses to the left — some hidden on a hill or behind the trees. The sun trying to shine through the canopy of trees that cover almost the full mile. It says, “Welcome home. Welcome back.” every time I make the drive. Even if just for coffee in the morning. Twenty summers in a row I spent there. Driving back and forth, back and forth. Up and down the lake road — my lake road. The one with a 17 mph speed limit and stone pillars guarding its entrance. The same stone pillars after which it was unofficially accepted and expected that you take your seat belt off and enjoy the lake road breeze. We always say our camp has the best spot — second last on the one mile road. And I never fully appreciated that drive until the past few years when I could no longer spend a full season soaking it up. Estling Lake Road means a lot to me, and it’s the most beautiful and wonderful road I’ve ever traveled.
Jersey mile
Your turn. What’s the most beautiful drive you’ve ever taken?