I have been blessed with some rather intoxicating travel opportunities in the last few years and now that I take a moment to consider them as a whole, I see that few were of my own making and that I live in a mode of perpetual gratitude for my luck in family and good taste in friends. My mother turned 70 years old last week, which is surprising enough…because she doesn’t seem 70 and because having a 70 year old mother says more than I want to hear about the stunning vortex that is adulthood where years fly by you as though the universe is pitching 100 mph fast balls to see how many of the years you will hit out of the park, how many will be nice safe ground balls, and how many you will swing hard on and miss.
In this analogy, the celebration of this maternal milestone counts as a grand slam. We don’t typically do family vacations as we are all running in so many interesting directions…we all fend for ourselves and briefly gather when we can for laughs and that refueling that you only get from being with your very own people. But for this, she gathered us all up and took us to Tennessee so that we could be together, kids running free and fast, adults engaging in utter gluttony and comfort at one of her favorite spots on the planet, Blackberry Farm.