Always wanting to be wherever I’m not
I recently spent a week “back home” in Maryland relaxing on the beach in Ocean City. Hadn’t been there since… well, not for a very looong time. That was where we vacationed every year throughout my childhood. I have wonderful memories of that town in particular and Maryland’s Eastern Shore in general.
The girls I was with could make a vacation in Kabul fun, but sitting in the sand with such smart, funny, relaxed women of a certain age was a tonic for my soul. However, I gotta say the beach in Maryland can’t compare to those in the Carolinas (with the exception of the Myrtle Beach area beaches, where I refuse to go except in the winter).
The South Atlantic coast can’t be beat, from Topsail to Surfside to Isle of Palms to Fripp and even onto Tybee Island in Georgia. I didn’t see one pelican or find any sand dollars in Ocean City. Can you believe it?
On the flip side, I don’t eat too much seafood down south because the Chesapeake Bay area has the best, hands down! I tried the clam chowder on Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco once and thought I was going to be sick. When I first moved to South Carolina I had to have my brother mail me a can of Chesapeake Bay seasoning because they didn’t sell it in the grocery stores here. Fortunately, things have improved in that department.
Anyway, the upshot of spending a week back in my old stomping grounds left me even more confused about where I want to live, and only underscores why I call myself the Carolina Yankee. And if you don’t know me personally, you’ll know me if you pass me on the road…