| | | | | | |

Sell the Jewels, Take the Trip

0 Comments

My motto: Sell the jewels, take the trip!

In 2018 I had a banner year–I lost my father to cancer, my best friend to suicide, and my marriage to infidelity. I didn’t know what to do to keep my head above water, so I decided to plan an epic bucket list trip for myself, my teenagers, and my niece. I spent so many nights dreaming of sleeping in castles and taking the ultimate luxury train through the mountains, that I decided to make it happen. My dream trip consisted of visiting my dream costume maker in Venice, eating some mind blowing pasta, taking the Orient Express to Paris, walking through Van Gogh’s paintings made of light in Paris, road tripping through France to see Josephine Bakers castle, sleeping in castles, and ending in Burgundy for my favorite wine. The one snafu? I didn’t have the money for this trip, but I never let a little thing like lack of money prevent me from following my dreams. So I gathered all the jewels my scalliwag ex- husband had given me over the last twenty years, and found a place to sell them (EBay!). And I took the trip!! The months of dreaming and planning and finally experiencing a trip so decadent and ravishing, gave me the only jewels that truly matter: memories with my beloveds.

(Note: This is a shortened version of the story “Sell the Jewels, Take the Trip” from my latest book, Divorce Diva: My Journey from Broken-Hearted Babe to Badass Babe. If you wish to read more details about our epic trip, search Orient Express, Venice, Josephine Baker’s Castle, Burgundy in the search bar on the blog)

Marci Darling

I lie here on my pink puffy bed in my pink silky pajamas, or pink flannel depending on my mood (the only thing you can bank on is that there will be chocolate smeared somewhere on my attire), with my pink feathered pen, writing my most delicious daydreams. Funny? Sometimes. Scandalous? Hopefully. Inspiring? Perhaps. Full of love? Always.

Welcome to my World.

Similar Posts

  • |

    The Amazing Effect of Pooh Bear on Dementia

    Hours

    2021 was the first September 14 of my life where I didn’t send flowers or a gift to my Mom for her birthday. She’s in Memory Care, and the last two years, I sent her bouquets of flowers that she never received.  She doesn’t really recognize flowers anymore, or me. She stares at me with vacant big brown eyes. Her beauty at the age of 81 is extraordinary, dark eyebrows framing big eyes, long thick lashes, and creamy olive skin….

  • | | | | |

    Ode to Joy: The Cello

    Hours

    Today, without knowing why, I found myself driving to the cello store, then hiking around my backyard forest with it in my arms. I sat down on an ancient rock and moved the bow across the strings until it finally started to fill the air with its sumptuous sensual tones. I wanted to play it by the fire and by the waterfall. I wanted to play for my pink flowers, dripping ferns, and fairy rocks. This time the cello didn’t make me weep, it made me laugh in delight and skip back down the hill.

  • |

    Jolabokaflod- An Icelandic Book Flood and Signing at the Wenham Museum

    Hours

    Hello My Darlings!! I recently learned that Iceland has a dreamy Christmas tradition involving the gifting of books on Christmas eve, followed by a night of hot chocolate and reading together by the fire. This is my idea of a perfect night (I would add in dancing and jumping on the couch, but a great book, cocoa and a roaring fire on Christmas eve? Sign me up!) This tradition is called Jolabokaflod which translates to a “book flood,” I would…

  • | | |

    Writer Jitters

    Hours

    So my new mystery novel comes out on Saturday on Amazon and I could not be more thrilled! I say this because I’m also feeling quite trepidatious about it, and I just read a very interesting study that you can reduce anxiety by embracing it as excitement. This sounds a little too simple to be effective, but many studies have been done that show that people who replace the words “I am so nervous” with “I’m so excited” can actually…

  • Barbie in the Toilet

    Hours

    Let’s see, it’s one of those day! Henry and Annabelle found a king-cake-baby this morning and made a little pond on their high chair trays for him to swim in.(For those of you who don’t know what a king-cake-baby is–there is a tradition on Mardi Gras here where everyone gets king cakes. Inside the cake is a tiny baby–smaller than your thumb. Whomever finds the baby gets to buy the king cake the following year, if they don’t find it…

  • Mud Pies and Treehouses

    Hours

    When I was a child, I walked home from school through Mr. Farley’s lush green apple orchards. A fresh crisp apple was the perfect tonic after a long day at school. I made mud pies and tried to get my little sister to eat them. I walked through fields of wildflowers, caught polliwogs in the creek, and hiked up mountain trails under the moonlight. I laid on the grass in my back yard with my father, eating peas and raspberries…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *