Y’all….Y’ALL. I am at the beach for a week of R&R with the girls. The house we are staying in is right on the beach but it’s an older house in the middle of nowhere Florida. The house was probably one of the first ones to be built on this stretch of beach. It’s nothing fancy at all. That’s not the problem. I believe this place might be haunted. I was perfectly fine until the lights started flickering a bit. Ok, no problem. Maybe just a little electrical issue. Then, I was dozing off in the living room so I decided to come to bed. I keep hearing lots of little noises that are reminiscent of bats flying around. But what really got me just now was the door to my bedroom being opened. Now it was not one of my friends playing a trick on me at all. I am the only weirdo wide awake pondering the poltergeist activity in this house. I am super tired so it may just be my doggone overactive imagination.
It is so quiet here otherwise. It’s perfect for people like me who hate crowds and love peace. This is my happy place. Port Saint Joe, Florida is where I one day want to call home. I love the place, the people, and the Gulf County sunsets. When we got into town today, we ate at Sparks Bar-B-Que & Brew “All About The Smoke”where we met Butter. Butter is one of the pit masters at Sparks’ and I’m just going to tell you….he knows how to make barbeque. Slap. Your. Mama. I’m going back one day this week to try his brisket. He works there with the owner, his best friend from high school. Butter took us out back where we met Miss Shirley, his smoker. That’s where the magic happens. As we were talking to one of the owners, a customer came in and she just struck up a conversation with us like she’d known us for years. This sweet lady paid for our meal and told us to pay it forward. You don’t get this kind of experience in a larger beach town. The food was amazing but the friendliness of the staff is definitely what will keep me going back.
There are so many new businesses all along Reid Avenue. It has come a long way since hurricane Michael. I noticed a shell of a building for sale. It literally has no roof and the only thing keeping it standing is the fact that it’s connected to buildings on either side by shared brick walls. It looked so shabby alongside the shiny new storefronts. My dream is to one day own my own business down here. I found myself looking at the potential in that building and wondering how in the world I could scrape up the money. I would be a boutique owner by day and novelist by night. I’ve got to go back and take a picture of the building for you guys. It is perfect for my plan even if it’s only a dream. But a dream started all of the businesses on Reid Avenue. If it can happen for them, it can happen for me. I have been coming down here so much, I even recognize people in the grocery store. I’m already feeling like a part time resident. The lady at the gas station who always pulls my lottery tickets ran around from behind the counter to hug me and my friends. She said, “the girls are back in town!” Today just helped solidify for me that this is where I’m supposed to be. It may not be right away but I’ll be changing my address to the 32456 zip code at some point.
Life is too short not to pursue those dreams, folks. This is a one way trip on this earth and when it’s done, it’s done. I don’t want to look back and say “I wish I’d have done that.” I want to be on my deathbed surrounded by those who love me and comforted by all my memories. (And maybe a plate of Sparks Barbeque.) I want to take that risk. I want to live life out loud and be a part of something bigger than me. Sure, I might fail. But what if I fly?
Messpot Diaries 