A vacation comes when you really need it.

From the days in Ms. Pomerantz class, I knew I would be a writer. She introduced me to the eccentric ways of 20th century American literature authors such as Faulkner and Hemmingway. When I read Hemmingway’s bio and learned that he had home in the Florida Keys, I thought, “Man, a home where you just write? How cool is that!” Given Hemmingway’s fate, I didn’t want my home to be in the Keys. My best friend went to a writer’s camp in New Hampshire and he told me about how beautiful the region was and how it would be a great place for my summer writing excursion. Since I hadn’t been there, I didn’t have a lot to go on, but I always stored the possibility of New Hampshire being the locale for my future writing hot spot. For many years, I didn’t share my dream of a summer home with anyone, not even my husband. I don’t know why exactly I kept it to myself. Maybe I didn’t want anyone to shoot down my dream. Maybe I stopped believing in the dream of writing professionally after having taken almost 10 years off from my professional writing career. Maybe…maybe it’s easier to have a little bit of fantasy in your life to keep the mundane daily routines from looking so bleak.

Anyway, I picked up some of my heartfelt dreams/fantasies of the past recently and as a visual learner, I decided to visit a place that could be the future residence of my summer writing spot. The first stop on my summer home journey is the infamous Cape Cod. Why? The requirements are simple. Secluded, not heavily commercial, accessible and near a large body of water. I’ve always saw myself waking up to the sunset, sitting in a lounge chair and watching the waves come up on my feet while I mentally prepare the next twist or turn in my latest novel. Sounds crazy? I used to think so too until I made the trip today.

My mom, my sisters, my niece and I arrived in Boston this morning around 8 a.m., drove down Highway 3 to 6 and the scenery was beautiful. I love the winding roads on the BW Parkway and Baltimore has more trees than most urban areas, but to drive this route on a sunny, high 70s day was breathtaking, relaxing, energizing. I didn’t realize the effect that urban, fast-paced, high-noise, crowded living could have on a person until now.

A vacation comes when you really need it, even when you didn’t know how bad you needed it.

We spent today going to just a few of the beaches on the Cape Cod National Seashore. WOW! It is so incredible, so picturesque. I have a lot on my mind and I really need to get some rest–mental, physical and emotional. All I could think about was how much of my time “vacationing” was wasted at these tourist filled spots and I would return from the vacation needing a…vacation. I could finally see it. I told my mom she could drop me off at the beach with a chair and a notebook and I could stay there with the waves and the sand all day long. The sounds, the movements did what I always imagined–it was as if the pressure that I’ve felt over the past month from some toxic relationships, some bad decisions were being transferred to the ocean and then washed away with every tide flow. I got some business cards of some realtors in the area, so that I could carefully construct my vision board, vision plans.

Tomorrow, Martha’s Vineyard. We’re even going on a tour. Not sure if it is going to be as accessible as other parts of the Cape, but you know I gotta take pictures of all of the famous people’s cribs. For research purposes of course.

Been somewhere you’ve always wanted and were blown away by how awful it was? Thought about a childhood dream or fantasy that you’ve squashed that maybe you need to reconnect with? How about your fantasy living arrangements/vacation spot? Please share.