Something occurs to me as I sit to blog. . . I enjoy writing about my friends, and I really love spending time with them. Especially this one. . .we’ve been friends since Mrs. Claxton’s fourth grade math class at McDonough Middle School.

Do you know what two old friends can accomplish in one 24-hour trip to Savannah? Here’s a stream of consciousness based on December 4-5:

Meet at the JWMarriott on the River Walk

Hug and quick-catchup while handing off car keys to a valet

Check-in, freshen up, hit the cobblestone streets of Savannah

Decide a Bloody Mary was in order to begin the afternoon of shopping, walking, chatting, sight-seeing only to get derailed by an espresso martini to “waken up”

Leave the eatery on Broughton Street only to find our way to several stores in the name of “Christmas shopping for our children” (Temu & Amazon had already taken care of that;)

Walk through a historic residential area of downtown SAV, spot a street sign with our hometown’s name on it, take a couple pics then resume our walk. . .

Find a fabulous Irish pub with no open seat at the bar (that’s where the best conversation happens) and walk out, perplexed that no one offered their seat

Only to see a sweet Friends-esque coffee house across the street, so it must be time to caffeinate

Stand in line, smell freshly ground coffee, while in line peruse lots of antique cups, mugs, etc, grab our coffees, find a spot near an old-school gas heater (the kind we used to hold our night-gowns over to warm up properly), sit and chat about how the bulk of 2023 had treated us. After that discussion, the Irish pub was calling our names once again. . . so,

Bar stools at aforementioned pub were available and waiting for us to solve all our conundrums; we even chatted up a Zaxby’s corporate official whose job it is to drive through all his territory’s restaurants, place an order, and note the quality of service/timeliness/cleanliness/ and taste of the food. Oh, the things you can learn over a pint at an Irish pub!

Ask fellow pub patrons about dinner suggestions, and get as many or more than anticipated

End up at our first choice restaurant, sans reservation, get the “scoop” from a rickshaw driver that the back entrance was thisaway but expect to get booted. . . (now, you know I love a well-timed and charming/disarming beg-for-forgiveness when busted scenario). . . then lo and behold, be greeted with open arms, yes ma’ams, and pleaaaase come spend your money at our lovely bar/restaurant. Actually it’s just fun to feel like we beat the system (of needing a reservation) and “settling” for drinks/dinner/continued convo at a fabulous bar.

Wander back to our River Street residence for the evening, and browseabout Christmas ornament shops, all the while checking out other bar-vibes to decide if we wanted to be a part of that scene, eventually settling for the hotel’s big-safari themed bar for our nightcaps.

Back to room, faces washed, realizing we each had packed improperly but it was all OK. Sleepy time soon enveloped, obligatory “I may snore or get up in the night” were offered up. I’ll just say that one of us likes a TV on during the night and the other likes complete darkness, but somehow we both slept soundly.

Early wakeup, get dressed, go find coffee. . . STAT!. . . more wakeup & discussion of brekky.  Sidenote: I’m a coffee-FIRST-thing-in-the-morning gal, and as such I take on the responsibility of retrieving coffee. Not the kind they put in your room, but the brewed, hot, make it to order stuff.  This is an important part of the day, and if you know Kay and her coffee set-up at home, you know she’s pretty serious about it, too.

Coffee has been drunk, a discussion ensues with the peel-back of a curtain to see our first-choice breakfast destination just across the street.

Walk outside, and it’s a glorious Savannah, GA day: 60 degrees, bright sunshine, that big green-on-March17th river is just behind us, and the world is ours to be had. . .

Keep walking, though, because that restaurant is full and under-staffed so we circle back to our hotel’s market-cafe for omelets.

Check-out time has arrived, but we’re not ready to part ways. She in her car, I in mine, we had dreamt up this cosmetic-lover’s paradise: an Ulta run for makeup and skin care items (which had been fully discussed the day before).

Savannah construction traffic made a 13-mile destination take over 40 minutes to get to. . . but that’s OK because there was a Homegoods right next door to the Ulta. Double-score!

Putz around, test products, talk it through, double-check against Amazon prices (such is a day in this MUA/blogger/consumer’s life).

Homegoods was Kay’s territory. I can decorate a face, but her specialty is decor for the home. She instinctively went to interesting pieces, wrapping papers, great-smelling soaps, and on and on. . .

Alas, it’s 2 pm and truly time to part ways. We had officially spent 26 hours together simply “because” I had left a pair of boots at her house. But we got so much more in. . . precious, sweet, delicious time. Catching up. Eating, sipping, talking. Remembering, laughing, giving pause over our departed loved ones. Laughing, recalling, and prognosticating for our beloved children and husbands. Delighting in each other’s memories and awe-ing in each other’s recalls.

Oh, there’s so much that can be done in

just. one. day.

I love you my Kay (not Karen).



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