I have never
considered myself a homebody, but lately I seem to want to stay home more than
usual. My husband and I went to visit my family for the holidays last month.
Although we were in Houston in the great state of Texas, we stayed home for
those five days. For many, it was a wasted opportunity but for me, it was a
chance to relax and hang out with the family. I like staying at home. I enjoy
sleeping in my bed and lounging at home. I enjoy the security of being around
familiar things. I like absent mindedly walking around my house. I enjoy the
fact that I know where everything in located and situated in my house (for the
most part). I like that I can get up in the middle of the night, stumble to the
kitchen to get a drink of water with my eyes closed and without having to turn
on the lights. I like knowing more than one route to my house.
Don’t get me wrong, I
am one for a road trip anytime, anywhere. Last June, after jet setting to a
warm and sandy international island destination, I came back with a new
perspective. I spent nine blissful days playing in the water, jet skiing, zip
lining, swimming, feasting on tasty food and enjoying great company. My husband
was there, and my family was there, life was good! My vacation was to the
lovely island of St. Marteen (if you are from the Dutch side), St. Martin (if
you are from the French side). Although
fairly small, the island is divided in two. The island is known as the Friendly
Island. Try as I might, there was something missing in this little corner of
Paradise. The people were polite, but their smile never reached their eyes and
they never let out a pearl of laughter like the kind you could hear in the
south. They simply lacked that southern charm that attracts me so much. I
missed the kind of hospitality that could make you drink a pitcher of sweet ice
tea in one afternoon, and leave you wondering how fast the time flew. The kind
of hospitality carried out with such boisterousness that it used to make me
cringe when I was younger and I was meeting new people. That is exactly what I
missed, the southern “howdy!” that I have become accustomed to. That is why, when it was time to pack my bags
and come back home, I did not feel a pang of sadness. I missed my fur babies
Valentino and Princess Paris, and I missed my soft recliner. Although I had a wonderful time, I have to agree
with Dorothy, there’s no place like home.
Where is home you
ask? Well, for the past seven months, this diva has been roosting in a new nest.
Many of you would be surprised to know that I actually moved from what I deemed
to be a small town (population 80,000) to an even smaller town (population
20,000). Yes, believe your eyes, I am now living in El Dorado, Arkansas and I
love it! El Dorado is a quiet small town in LA (Lower Arkansas). It is situated
about 17 miles from the Louisiana Stateline. My favorite part of the town is
the quaint little square/downtown area.
Yesterday, my hubby
and I just drove around town sightseeing. The reality of our move finally set
in. Our move was particularly fast. We did not have a chance to fully explore
the town prior to moving. Perhaps that is why these past seven months have been
captivating. With each passing day, I am learning something new about my town.
The people are friendly and the young couples actually make an effort to
hangout and know each other. We managed to find a small house on small tree
lined street on a semi-quiet neighborhood. I guess this proves what I have
known all along, I am a small town Diva after all!
