a weekend in Highlands, NC

It's the middle of August now, and we're becoming aware of summer nearing its end. Aside from Jim's travel to Berlin and Vancouver for work, and our beach trip to Siesta Key in June, we stuck close to home this year to prepare for the baby. But now that he's here and our family is complete, we decided to work in another weekend trip to Highlands, NC.

My grandmother has owned two homes in this mountain town for as long as I can remember. In my mind, the trips we took to Highlands growing up - just an hour from my hometown, up a windy road - are tinged with a magical, escaptist glow. Her homes are within walking distance of downtown, directly across the street from an ice cream shop with a deck that fish swim below, with a path to the park in her backyard (likely grown over now), and a creek we could hear at night when we slept with our windows open. As children, we were given freedoms not granted at home; we could walk to the park, to town, to get ice cream. 

Anyhow, I hadn't been in years, and Jim had never visited. So on a whim, we packed up the car and drove a nine day-old baby Leo (and two year-old Luca :) up those same windy roads to spend a weekend. I loved sharing the ice cream from my childhood with Luca, and walking around those same streets with Leo snuggled tightly against me. Also, drinking wine on a restaurant patio outside in the cool air with my husband was pretty nice.