Hey there!
Last week I told you that things were going to look a little different around here. You'd still get the packing. The travel. The history. The food. The wine. The historical rabbit holes that begin with one innocent question and somehow cost me four hours of my life.
But I also told you something else: You were going to get to know me. I may come to regret that promise.
Because if we're going to do this properly, there's something you should probably know right up front. I'm a little much. Actually, that's not entirely accurate. I'm usually a little much. But every now and then, circumstances align in such spectacular fashion that I become A LOT MUCH. And those are almost always the best stories.
Which brings me to the flaming squirrel. Yes. The flaming squirrel. Jim and I planned our wedding in three days—that's another story in itself, but now, it is the Flaming Squirrel who has the stage...at our small wedding... In Virginia Beach, VA.
Just as the wedding was starting, in my mother's house, in her den, a squirrel fell down the chimney and into the fireplace. Now, a squirrel falling down your mother's chimney during your wedding is already a problem. A squirrel falling down the chimney, landing in the fireplace with a roaring fire and catching on fire is an entirely different category of problem.
And because this is my life we're talking about, that's exactly what happened. The squirrel came down the chimney. The squirrel caught fire and ran through the house. Chaos ensued as Jim chased the squirrel, brandishing a fire shovel. And he killed the squirrel and extinguished the flames.
After we all caught our breath, we resumed our wedding and were finally married. And apparently, like much of my life, it was an unforgettable moment that we laugh about to this day.
There are people who have beautiful stories about the moments before their weddings. Flowers arriving. Mothers are crying. Guests taking their seats. And...I have a flaming squirrel in my mother's den.
And you know what? I wouldn't trade that story for theirs. Because I've realized something about the stories I've collected over my life. Very few of the really good ones happened because everything went exactly according to plan.
The itinerary tells you where you thought you were going. The story usually begins when something screws it up. I've gotten lost. I've taken wrong turns. I've followed questions I probably could have left alone. I've walked into places because I wondered what was behind the door.
I've gone looking for one historical fact and emerged hours later with six stories, twelve browser tabs open, and poor Jim wondering whether we're ever going to eat dinner. And I've learned that some of the best parts of life happen right there. In the detour. In the ridiculous. In the thing you couldn't possibly have put on the calendar.
I've started calling them Flamingo Moments. Those are the moments when curiosity, chaos, delight, or sheer improbability hijacks the plan, and suddenly you're somewhere you never expected to be.
Sometimes they're wonderful. Sometimes they're ridiculous. Sometimes you don't realize how funny they are until much, much later. And occasionally there's a flaming squirrel.
Maybe that's part of being a little much. I've never been particularly good at moving through life without noticing things. I want to know what's down that road. I want to know why that building is there. I want to know who lived there.
I want to know why everyone keeps repeating the same story when there's clearly another story underneath it. And if something doesn't make sense? God help us all. I'm probably going to ask.
Then I'm going to ask another question. And another. And pretty soon we're four hours down a rabbit hole, and I've discovered something I absolutely have to tell you.
For years, I think I've shown you the useful result of all that curiosity. The packing system. The destination story. The historical research. The restaurant. The hotel. The book.
But I haven't always shown you the slightly ridiculous woman who got us there. We're fixing that. Because life isn't just about knowing how to pack the suitcase. It's about what happens after you leave the house. And I'm increasingly convinced that the moments we didn't plan are often the ones worth carrying home. So yes.
I'm a little much. Occasionally I'm A LOT MUCH. And apparently I've been collecting Flamingo Moments for most of my life. I have a feeling you're going to hear about quite a few of them.
Betsi
P.S. Your turn. What's your Flamingo Moment? The vacation that went completely sideways. The wrong turn that became the best part of the trip. The family disaster that is hysterical twenty years later. Hit reply and tell me the story you never could have planned. I have a feeling I'm going to love these.
And a special SHOUTOUT to everyone who replied to my question last week - I so enjoyed learning more about you!
Here is a special freebie just for you - THANKS FOR BEING PART OF OUR COMMUNITY!
