If someone says, "Whatever you want, dear," does it frustrate you or make you happy. In the case of fellow author, Christina Sinisi, you might be surprised! Read on about her latest anniversary trip. My husband and I have been together for more than 40 years. We met in college—both representing our schools as honors students. I was a sophomore, and he was a senior. His older, wiser self might have been the reason he went back to barracks (he attended Virginia Military Institute) and told his roommate he’d met the woman he was going to marry. His roommate said the same. My husband was right (he often is, but ssh), his roommate wasn’t. Flash forward to this past year. For some context—my husband grew up in New Orleans up to age 12 and then moved to a Connecticut suburb. He’s a city boy by training. On the other hand, I grew up in the mountains of Virginia and wandered the woods. Whenever my family traveled, we avoided cities and searched out wilderness. I love where we live—near the beach in South Carolina--but also miss the mountains sometimes. So, for our anniversary, my choice was Helen, Georgia. My husband’s response was, “whatever you want, dear.” Now, if someone says that and doesn’t actually mean it, that’s the ultimate passive-aggressive response. The thing is, my husband meant it. We drove to North Georgia on a Thursday evening so we’d have two full days before returning home and to the start of a new school year on Sunday. I created an itinerary (we’re a spreadsheet family) and again…”whatever makes you happy.” The first evening, we explored the town and ate at a German restaurant. I got traditional food, he had a burger. We stayed in a lovely cabin. So, all was well. The next day, we visited our first set of waterfalls, Tallulah Gorge State Park, nearly 1000 feet deep. I got excited and chose to hike all the way to the bottom and could barely make it back to the top. Wonderful husband showed every bit of patience, stopping with me, encouraging me. We made it and I chose an adventurous place for lunch—he got something ‘merican. Then, back to the cabin for a much-needed rest. After a nap, I popped up ready to go tubing. Despite my background, I’d never gone tubing on a river. My husband hadn’t either, and for some reason didn’t wear his bathing suit. His idea was that we were going straight from there to dinner, so he wore regular clothes. I’m sure not all rivers are this way, but the Chattahoochee possesses a lot of shallow areas and boulders sticking out of nowhere. My hubby, being the manly man he is, brought the stick and pushed and shoved our way down the stream. I lay back and loved the sunshine and the people around me (whole busloads) and the spray of cool water. As we were exiting, my wonderful husband took a wrong step and submerged. In his regular clothes, after getting beyond aggravated with the process of making it down river. As the dry one, I hurried inside to our locker and retrieved our possessions while he sat on a bench and dried off. Then, we sloshed our way to the truck—where a ticket waited on our windshield accusing us of hitting the car in front of us. We saw no damage, the paper seemed flimsy rather than an official ticket, and we knew we hadn’t hit anyone. Just to be safe, my husband called the number. It was some kind of dispatch that sent us to the local police department, maybe, who asked what kind of vehicle we drove. I blurted out, “are you even a real police officer because you would know what kind of vehicle if it was on the ticket?” She said she was a real police officer and said they’d put out a warrant for arrest if we didn’t come to the station. We went to the station (best vacation ever, right?). Two officers met us and were very kind, took all sorts of information, and sent us on our way. We never heard another word about it. However, my husband’s day was not going well. We did have a delicious dinner and recovered somewhat. The next day, the morning waterfall was only a short drive from the cabin and a short walk from the parking lot: win/win. Lunch meant standing in a line for an hour so I could have more traditional German food--delicious. Then, the afternoon hike was interminable. I must have misread something because we walked and walked, and twilight threatened. We literally had to climb up the side of a rock face for the last yards. Still, I loved waterfall after waterfall and being away from any traffic. My husband thought we were lost. Conclusion—the next day, driving home, wonderful husband wasn’t in the best of moods. However, when we started planning for this year’s anniversary—his answer is still, “whatever makes you happy.” “I just don’t see a need to go back to Helen, Georgia, though.” Now, that is love. A member of American Christian Fiction Writers, Christina Sinisi writes stories about families, both the broken and blessed. Her works include a semi-finalist in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest and the American Title IV Contest where she appeared in the top ten in the Romantic Times magazine. Her published books include Christmas Confusion, Sweet Summer, and Christmas on Ocracoke. By day, she is a psychology professor and lives in the LowCountry of South Carolina with her husband, two children and her crazy cat Chessie Mae. Website/Blog: https://www.christinasinisi.com/ Social Networking Sites: Twitter: @ChristinaSinisi Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Christina-Sinisi-Author-105861987440664/?modal=admin_todo_tour Instagram: @csinisi123 Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/csinisi/ Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/101218889-christina-sinisi Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/christina-sinisi Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/They-Call-Falling-Christina-Sinisi-ebook/dp/B0B1GF6FBC/ref=sr_1_2?keywords=Christina+Sinisi&qid=1654020461&s=books&sr=1-2 As the daughter of missionaries, Kerrie Alexander has lived on Hatteras—an island in the Outer Banks—longer than any other place she’s been. When her parents inform her the family is slotted to go overseas again, she balks. Her life on the island—her job, her friends, even the handsome hero in her Sunday School class—makes her want to put down roots. But to do so, she’ll need to find a place to live, face being on her own separated from any close family—something she’s never done before. Firefighter and EMT Wade Hampton can face pretty much any emergency, except his matchmaking grandpa threatening him with disinheritance if Wade doesn’t get married in just three months. Not that Wade objects to the idea of marriage, but how does a guy who has no problem running into burning buildings find the courage to ask a girl like Kerrie out for a date? She’s a role model for everything good, and he comes from a rough and broken home. Not to mention, Christmas is right around the corner!
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This is a place for me to share thoughts and ideas not just related to writing. Thoughts about what's going on in my life, about an idea I got that I thought shareworthy, or just a funny anecdote.
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