Early in our marriage, Stuart and I decided, on a whim, to head to Virginia Beach, a little more than 200 miles away.
Back in the day, no one bothered you if you camped on the beach itself, so that’s what we did.
It seemed wild and daring. We literally dove into this adventure.
We are steady, dependable (boring?) people ordinarily.
Until one of us surprises the other and starts a sentence with these sexy words,
“Let’s . . .”
Last weekend we had one of those attacks of spontaneity.
With one hour’s notice, we decided to go to Washington, DC, our closest city.
Our friends on Facebook provided enough advice for a whole week.
We plucked out what fit best with our time and location,
and plunged in.
Back in 1970, spontaneity looked like this:
In 2015 we “roughed it” less than we did 45 years ago.
But as we chose our path across the National Mall at night, we still had stars in our eyes.
And a hand to hold.
Is spontaneity a welcome spark for you? What have you done on a whim that turned out great? Any spontaneous disasters?