cpblaylock-blog

[cpblaylock-blog]

How Do You Measure?

Life is a funny thing when you contemplate it in terms of measures. Days become weeks. Weeks become months. Months become years and years become decades. I’m not not old by any means but I am definitely on the backend of life if you divide the average lifespan in half. That’s weird for me.

Sometimes I look back at my life and it is as if I have lived 4-6 completely independent lives sewn together under my name and identity. A born again christian - small town girl - collegiate athlete - professional golfer - mother - educator - pilot - insurance professional - wife. Each life navigated chasing the adventures on the horizon in front of me, learning lessons about respect, working hard, and how to love and live with the people in your arena. It’s a patchwork quilt, if you will, that embodies all the qualities that make me who I am, both good and bad. Imbued with a lifetime of insecurities, threaded with a general affection for all God’s people, my “quilt” may be a little more than half way complete but I rest in knowing that it is illustrated with the beautiful colors of travel, stained with the sting of heartache and life’s disappointment, stitched with the opportunity of raising two amazing young men, and repaired with the love of a man who makes me feel exceptional. I sure am looking forward to adding a few more panels to what has already been a blessed life.

[cpblaylock-blog]

It’s Been a Minute

It’s been a minute since I have gone exploring on my own for a few days. I have had some sense of adventure since my aunt took me on a trip to Washington D. C. when I was 8 years old. We laugh about it now because I was your typical inattentive hyperactive tomboy who was sure the objective of going to the Museum of Natural History was to get through it as fast as possible. What? It wasn’t a race?

My current trip takes me to Boston for a quick paid appearance to play 18 holes for the Legend’s of the LPGA Tour and then on to New Hampshire and Maine for the weekend. As I approached the age of 50, one of my goals was to visit all 50 states by age 50. Well, I turned 50 in March and after this trip, I am left with North Dakota, South Dakota and Alaska. I don’t think I will get them in before I turn 51 but Lord willing, I will get to the last 3. I took my first trip on a plane at age 15 to San Diego, California to play in the Optimist Junior Worlds at Torrey Pines GC. 35 years later, and I still love the anticipation of exploring new places, meeting people, and trying regional culinary dishes I can’t get at home.

I spent the rest of the weekend exploring New Hampshire and Maine , wrapping it up in Boston. In Maine, I followed the coast making stops in Ogunquit, Kennebunkport and Cape Neddick. Lobster rolls, fried clams, light houses and sunshine followed me all the way to Walker’s Point aka the George H. W. Bush compound. As the clock creeped into the afternoon the compass turned south and the Boston welcomed me with traffic and tunnels. Beantown is loaded with historical sites and I managed to catch just a few this time. Paul Revere’s House, Faneuil Hall and the Old North Church to name a few. On Hanover street I dipped into Carmelita’s for an amazing early dinner with a nice glass of red wine before catching the Red Sox v Orioles game to wrap up my trip.

Guess I better figure out how to get to Alaska in the next 6 months…..

#travel #new hampshire #boston #red socks #maine #massachusetts #plymouth #kennebunkport

[cpblaylock-blog]

Answered Prayers

In my quiet time, I recently read, “there are only three answers to a prayer:

1. Yes.

2. Not yet.

3. I have something else in mind for you.

Man's great challenge is trusting 'not yet' or 'I have something else,' and avoiding the foolish notion of hope; wishing at nothing that your unanswered prayers are granted”.

This perspective offers me a significant amount of peace especially when I look back at some of my previous personal or professional periods of challenging times. I can not count the number of times I found myself on my knees in prayer asking for a specific outcome to a situation or issue. In retrospect, it was selfish and short sighted., usually looking for the easy fix or immediate relief. What I can appreciate now is that God uses adversity and joy, as well as darkness and light to create the masterpiece that is each of our lives. Sometimes, we may provide Him with a few more colors on the palette or adjectives in the narrative with the choices we make but the picture, prelude, main conflict, climax and conclusion are all perfectly crafted just as He intended.

[cpblaylock-blog]

What Makes People Great?

It seems like a simple question with mostly likely a rudimentary, standard answer. But I have always posed this question to myself in relation to athletic or professional performance standards and personal expectations. Admittedly, I am a nerd, lover of meaningful quotes, full of useless information, who sends her kids inspirational quotes almost daily on Instagram. I am sure they get sick of them but some of them resonate so deeply with me that I feel compelled to share them in hopes they will have one take-away to improve their outlook on life and the day. Sometimes, when I hear a preacher or presenter speak and the words cause me to pause and give thought to how they can be applied to my life as a parent, significant other or sibling, I write them down and put them in places where I know I will see them in the future when I have time to write about them. When I read books for pleasure, I make a vocabulary list of the words I don’t know, Mr. Moss would be so proud.

“What makes people great?” was a prompt from a motivational book I read years ago when I was in education and coaching. Seeking ways to motivate my student-athletes to find their purpose and their own success, I attended coaching clinics, educational seminars and read countless books on said topic. During my tenure, I began cultivating a list of attributes and qualities that resonated with me to appropriately depict people I regarded as “great”. I should also disclose, that this is a running list that will likely have additions as I meander past mid-life into my 50’s and 60’s where perspective is tempered with wisdom and life experience, I only wish I had in my 20’s.

My current list includes:

1. Someone who displays a declaration of commitment to others.

2. Someone who chooses to live honorably.

3. Someone who pursues excellence in everything.

4. Someone who acknowledges presence by offering respect to those who have earned it.

5. Someone who accepts challenges and failures as opportunities for growth.

Recently, a friend and colleague of mine passed away unexpectedly. He was battling cancer and had made remarkable progress but ran into complications. By the grace of God, DC entered the Kingdom of Heaven on, of all days, Good Friday. DC was a fellow colleague at Aflac, and although we only worked for the same employer for a few years, he was one of those people who left a lasting impression. You see, DC was a manager for the Atlanta Aflac team, not mine. Even though I lived in Georgia, I covered the Alabama market and had a different manager. When I placed my first big case, DC was the 1st person to call and offer words of congratulation. We played golf several times as we were members of the same club and even won a tournament with his dad on our team. More often than not, my interaction with DC was usually me calling him asking for clarification or advice about how to approach a client or broker because my own manager fell miserably short of ring genuine or leading by example. DC, however, would call me periodically and say, “do we need to have a check-in session” which almost always ended with wise words like “control what you can control, Caroline”. It certainly wasn’t rocket science or groundbreaking advice on selling in the insurance industry, but it was masterful in the art of relationship building and empathy for those whom you genuinely care about in life. DC’s objective, in hindsight, was nothing more than to boost my confidence, offer advice and help me hit my objectives. He certainly did not have to make the effort as he had a team of 6-7 people he managed on his own team but he made me feel relevant and supported by just a simple gesture. At DC’s celebration of life, the presence of Jesus was palpable as 4-5 speakers used words like genuine, joy, intentional, love, empathy and kindness to describe him. What I realized at DC’s service was, there is so much we can appreciate and learn about ourselves and how we live from what we observe and learn from others who may precede us in an earthly death. When it was over, I walked away with another characteristic of greatness that DC so resolutely possessed, even though he absolutely checked off 1-5.

6. Someone who truly knows Jesus, is genuine and can see the potential in others and empowers them to navigate their path to success.

For the record, I don’t usually attend funerals because they are awkward and sad, but not long ago I attended one where the message was, “go to the funeral as gesture of respect”. So, on a beautiful sunny Saturday, when I would normally have played 18-36 holes, I attended DC’s service as a final show of respect and to say a prayer of thanksgiving to a man of considerable greatness. I can only hope to possess a few of these traits when my journey on earth ends but I can assure you I will work every day to emulate people like DC along the way.

[cpblaylock-blog]

TAKING TIME TO REFLECT @ 50.

A half-century, 5 decades, 600 months or however you chose quantify my age. In reality, it’s just a number and I certainly don’t act my age nor do I plan on it anytime soon. I have never been one to go over the top with birthday celebrations (except for my kids) for as long as I can remember. As I mark the 2nd anniversary of my 25th birthday, I have had some time to reflect on a few things I’ve learned, value, and can appreciate at age 50.

To travel is to learn.

Traveling (for work or pleasure) has provided me with an amazing opportunity to learn about people, cultures, communities and traditions of places I have dreamt about visiting my whole life. It has blown open my appreciation for diversity and lit the wick of curiosity in me, which I hope continues to burn for a long time.

Being kind is infectious.

I’m often times told, “you are too nice” most times in reference to my tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt. Sure, I have been burned and made to look like a fool as some people have earned my mistrust. However, those instances are pretty rare and the result / outcome of my intentional kindness serves as fuel for my soul as people light up with love, appreciation and gratitude for even the simplest of acts of kindness. It’s selfish, I know but it has been one of my favorite lessons to teach and demonstrate for my boys throughout their adolescence and into adulthood.

Generosity is an extension of God’s blessing.

Being generous is not exclusive to donating money. Yes, it is nice to donate money and in some cases a huge blessing to those on the receiving end but generosity can also include time spent with someone who needs a friend, efforts to make connections or contacts to help someone on their path to success, offering wisdom and perspective to those who come behind you to help them avoid the pitfalls they may encounter along the way or just doing something nice for someone anonymously. As I get older, I find myself becoming more intentional when these opportunities arise. It’s almost like God whispers in my ear something as simple as “make a phone call, Caroline”, “send them a note” or “offer them some encouragement today”. It may seem weird but I try to listen to that voice in my head, to what it says and it usually results in something that fills my soul with joy and goodness.

Love will always win over hate.

I’ve experienced some pretty difficult things in 50 short years. The seed of bitterness and hate could have been sewn into the fabric of my being a long time ago but thankfully I made the conscious choice to love. It certainly was not easy at times and the devil is quite cunning in his ability to manipulate my mind and thought process to try and stoke the fire of resentment and hate. As I look back, I am grateful for obedience to forgiveness and the grace extended to me in the darkness of times which have led me to a place of peace and happiness.

Life is Good

Many people have asked me recently, “how are you doing?” (Mostly in reference to my divorce last year). Last month, I was again asked this very question by a friend I had not seen in a long time who was genuine in her query. As soon as the last syllable rolled off her tongue, I could feel myself smiling, my heart rate increasing, and a glow emanating from my soul. “I AM HAPPY.” I didn’t have to think about it, contemplate the positive vs the negative, or give thought to things that are usually the source of stress before I responded. My response that followed was unrehearsed and instinctive and it was only after I said it that I truly appreciated what came out of my mouth. “I will be 50 in March. I’m educated, have a great job, have raised two remarkable young men, have a supportive family and I have found the love of my life in a man I have known since I was 8 years old. I could not be happier. Life is good.”

At 50, I still mountain bike, play golf, hike, exercise 3-4 times per week, fly and travel when I can. As my good friend GKC says, “I’m 29 and holding” and there is so much left to do, see and explore. So if you see me in the coming days, weeks and months, know that I expect a hug and that I’m am happy.

[cpblaylock-blog]

At The Crossroads of History

Any trip that is worth remembering should include challenges making connections, navigating through international airports, knowing when to ask for help and most importantly a great sense of humor. If these are the benchmarks for the beginning of a great trip, then we most certainly checked those off. Inadvertently booked on separate flights, we parted ways at the Atlanta airport only to meet up in Amsterdam 8.5 hours later. It was an easy flight and we all actually got some sleep. We did not have long in Amsterdam and our short stay was made even shorter when I took us to the wrong gate! My error meant a “brief” cardio workout for the Bullet and as expected, we made it to the gate just before the flight closed.

Our flight into Turkey had us arriving in the new airport in Istanbul. As we deborded the plane, we were amazed at how modern and big the airport was. We then realized we did not have a visa so we had to purchase one before passing passport control. $90 later and we were officially in the country. Unfortunately, only my bag arrived and it took us 2 hours to fill out the proper paperwork and get through customs only to find that our shuttle driver left. No worries, we hired Mario Andretti to take us via taxi to our airport. Julie made the mistake of riding in the back seat and when I turned to check on her she was a lovely shade of green. “Window down, window down, por favor.”……….”Um, I believe that is Spanish and he speaks Turkish”. Luckily, our driver spoke southern sign language and he obliged. As we whizzed through traffic, deeper and deeper into the heart of the city, the culture and history of Istanbul came to life. Honking horns, people on the go, depictions of Ataturk (patriarch of Turkey) and the sound of the call to prayer all came together like a patchwork quilt.

When we arrived at our hotel we were pleasantly surprised with its proximity to The Bosphorus. We were even more pleased when we opened the door to our room. Our reactions were similar to that of Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz when the gates of Oz opened for the first time. Our room was HUGE and half of the entire room was glass and it faced the Bosphorus. Anyone who travels with me knows what a joy it is for me to see the excitement in my travel companions eyes when they experience something for the first time. To see that in the Silver Bullet’s eyes makes it even more meaningful. The bellman pulled the curtains back and made the view even better and she was stunned with amazement. We totally forgot about the challenges of the day as we sat mesmerized by a 30 km straight that not only joined Asia and Europe but has been a significant geographical point for centuries. As we all checked in with people back home, we were able to FaceTime with Ada (the Bullet’s sister). As I came out of the bathroom, I heard the Bullet say “Oh yeah. We are staying right on the Straight of Boris. It’s beautiful”. I took a quick glance at Julie and we both fell out laughing. “What? What did I say?”………”Well, we are staying on the Bosphorus Straight but I’m sure the Straight of Boris is beautiful too!”…..”Y’all are so bad. Ada knew what I meant”.


Day 2

Our first full day in Istanbul began by meeting our guide, Unal Ayadin, in the lobby a little before 9:00 p.m. I had contracted Unal after reading several positive reviews on Trip Advisor. We found Unal to be a complete delight. Not only was he patient and kind but also empathetic to our request to “take it slow” so the Bullet felt comfortable and rested. Most of the sites we saw on day 2 were within walking distance of each other so our driver took us to the Hippodrome for the first stop. Once the center of Byzantine civic life, the Hippodrome built by Emperor Septimus Severus in 203 AD and has a 3,500 year old obelisk that was brought to Istanbul by Turkey. From the Hippodrome we walked over to the Blue Mosque where we had to cover our heads with scarves and I had to put on a skirt to cover my legs. I had never been into a mosque so it was pretty fascinating to see how open the space was to accommodate the worshipers. Sometimes called the Sultan Ahmed Mosque, the Blue Mosque is easy to pick out in the Istanbul skyline because it has 6 minarets.

A short walk over to Hagia Sophia and our history lesson continued. As we were entering, you can not help but notice the similarities in architectural styles of other iconic churches such as St. Peter’s in Rome and St. Paul’s in London. The doors at the entry were at least 25 feet tall and huge! This mosque has a very compelling history that involves both the christian and muslim faith. The first two churches constructed on this site were actually raised and the current Hagia Sophia was commissioned by Emperor Justinian in 360 AD to “outdo” the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem. This church would be the largest Christian church in the world for almost 1,000 years. This is where the story gets interesting. Following the fall of Constantinople to the Ottoman Turks in 1453 AD, Sultan Mehmet declared the Hagia Sophia a mosque. Mehmet did not have the Christian mosaics inside the church destroyed by rather covered with plaster. In the late 1930’s, archeologist discovered the mosaics and have been working to restore them up to today.

After Hagia Sofia we walked over to Topkapi Palace, home to the Ottoman sultans for 400 years. It was commissioned by Mehmet the Conqueror. The palace has 4 courtyards, harem and an Imperial Council room where the Sultan would meet with his viziers. Loaded with incredible tile work and gold fixtures, the palace sits high above the waters edge and the restaurant offers some incredible views.

After lunch we hopped into a cab and went to a private demonstration of carpet weaving where we learned how the yarn is pulled from the silk worms, dyed and woven into incredible works of art. The afternoon took a funny turn when Julie decided to bargain with the salesman and he did not quite know how to deal with a southern woman on a mission. “Lady, lady, please give me calculator back. You don’t know how to use it.”……”Oh yes I do. You can sit right here beside me and call me precious but I AM going to hold this calculator and tell you what I will pay for that rug”. I fell out laughing and just sat back to watch the rest of the show. By the end of the demonstration we had purchased 3 rug and made a new friend. After we took our group picture and began to depart, Julie reminded our friend (pronounced AB - DOO - LAH with a drawl) that he had friends in Georgia, not the country, if he ever made it back to the US.

A short walk through the streets and we were at the Grand Bazaar. I have wanted to go to the Bazaar for a long time and did not really know what to expect. Over the course of history, you read about farmers and merchants traveling from far away places to sell or trade their goods at the Bazaar. On the inside, it’s a bit crazy. Packed with 4,000 shops across 52 streets, you can buy just about anything in there. If I heard “hey lady” once, I heard it 1,000 times. I was reminded of several places I have visited before in some way or another like Chinatown in NYC. We did not stay too long as we were all tired and ready to get off our feet. We picked up a few thing like Turkish delight and a backgammon set before heading back to the hotel. Unal was pretty entertained at our bargaining methods and said we actually did pretty well for first timers. We enjoyed Unal so much that we hired him for a 3rd day.

After we rested for a few hours at the hotel, we met a friend (Belma Hasserbetci) for dinner. We sat and reminisced about Darlington and the experience her daughter Servet had there as a student when I was a Head of House. Belma was a remarkable host and ordered us the most amazing food. We had lamb chops, chicken, ribs, kaftka, and kebabs among assorted sides. We finished with pistachio baklava with vanilla ice cream and were miserably full by the end of the meal. We said our goodbyes and waddled back to the room where we crashed pretty hard.

The next morning we met Unal downstairs and departed for Dolombahce Palace, home of the last six sultans dating from the mid-1800’s to 1924, when the Caliphate was abolished. Power was transferred to the new Turkish Republic and its founder and 1st President (Mustafa Ataturk) moved into the palace. No flash photos were allowed but I did manage to capture a bit of the opulence that is consistent with a sultan’s palace. Beautiful tile, marble Hamam, and incredible views of the water. There is a HUGE hall at the end of the tour with a 4.5 ton chandelier that is enormous. Outside, the gardens are immaculate and are colorful.

After the palace, we walked about 3 blocks over to the pier where we took a boat for a cruise on the Bosphorus. It was quite interesting to see both the Asian and European sides from the water. There were quite a few “summer houses” on the water for the sultans that were no less than 1 mile from each other. We turned around under a huge suspension bridge that connects the two continents and made our way back to the pier where our driver was waiting to pick us up. Unal wanted to show us Taksim Sauare, site of several political protests as well as to take us to one of his favorite spots to eat, Haci Abdullah. As the doors opened, the smell of fresh spices and herbs escaped and we drifted in like cartoon characters. We made our way to the back and found a buffet of entrees and sides that all looked delicious. I chose the lamb shank, Julie had a rice dish and the Bullet chose lamb for the 3rd straight day. It was by far the best meal we had had so far and I did not leave one bite!

After lunch we stopped by a ceramic showroom where we were given a demonstration but didn’t get sucked in to purchasing anything before we made our way to the Egyptian Spice Market. Much like the Grand Bazaar, the spice market is loaded with people and very friendly salesmen. We picked up some nice tea and almost made it out before Julie caught her eye on some nice linen pieces in a store. As we entered, the salesman was quite funny and immediately taken with Julie’s approach to bargaining. She wanted to pick up a few small pieces of jewelry for her nieces and the game began. As the Bullet and I sat and watched the show, we were offered Turkish tea, which generally means “thank you for stopping by. We appreciate your patronage”. As the bargaining would down…….or I should say, as Julie wore him down, the salesman kept repeating “ok lady. But be fair. What is your price?” At this point, Julie grabs the calculator (known as the Southern Death Nail) and says “this is what I’ll pay you”. Head down with a wry smile, the salesman counters with “Ok. How about you give me $200 and I give you 2 kisses?”…….”Um. No. How about I give you $100 and no kisses.”……Completely defeated, the salesman says “you are worse than Turkish lady to bargain with” which I am taking as compliment. Winner!!

20 minutes later and we are in the van headed for the hotel. Unal was completely entertained and complimented us again on the success of our bargaining. As we arrived back at the hotel, we said our goodbyes and offered him a place to stay if he ever made his way to Georgia.

Day 3:

On our last full day in Istanbul, we had some housekeeping items to attend to before we set out to see the sites. We grabbed a cab up to the Apple store to get Julie’s phone repaired which did not take too long but was a success. A showtime later and we were headed south to a percussion store I had looked up to buy a Turkish riq (tambourine) for a friend. As luck would have it, we stumbled onto a super cute neighborhood with several boutique shops as well as music shops. I was able to find the riq and we continued to walk south towards the water. We rounded the corner and dead infant of us was Galata Tower. Built in 1348, this 220 ft. tower was originally built to control the northern end of the sea chain by the Golden Horn. The line to get inside was crazy long so we took our pictures and kept walking. As we defended down the steep streets, I happened to notice a small restaurant with a Trip Advisor sign on the outside. We decided to give it a try for lunch and it ended up being very good. If you are looking for great food in a unique setting, give Bankalar Lokantasi a try. It’s tucked into a side street down by the water and when you enter you’d swear you were entering a wine cellar.

Istanbul to Athens

We had a very pleasant drive to the airport. Our driver and valet spoke very good English and we discussed pre-Trump Turkey and current Turkey and how current politics make it difficult for them to travel to the US. It was an interesting conversation and offered me a perspective I don’t usually have as citizen. Our valet assisted us through security up to passport control where we said our goodbyes and proceed into the nicest airport I have ever been through. Not only is it huge but it has all the high end shops like Hermes, Chanel, and Louis Vuitton. The place was packed with people but extremely clean an incredibly beautiful. We made it to our gate where we met a young missionary from Kentucky who was traveling to Albania to meet his wife. We laughed and fellowship with him for about 30 minutes before we boarded the plane to Athens. Julie gave him 2 of her missionary bracelets to share the Word with others and we parted ways.

Through passport control and customs like nobody’s business, we found our driver and were headed to the airport in under an hour. The drive was only about 35 minutes and our sprinter van was super comfortable. Our hotel, the St. George Lyccabettus was in a great location and offered some pretty amazing views of the Acropolis. We checked in, dropped our bags, made a reservation for a private tour guide for the next day and caught a taxi over to the National Museum of Architecture. The museum has hundreds of artifacts predating Jesus by 9,000 years. I can’t even wrap my mind around that!

After the museum, we caught a cab down to the Acropolis where we found a nice restaurant with a view. We were early so they let us sit on the roof before the dinner rush. We enjoyed a wonderful meal of goat with gruyere cheese, lamb with roasted veggies and calimari. We ate til we were more than full and then ordered dessert. Our server recommenced what he called Milk Pie which turned out to be a fancy Greek Chess Pie in phyla dough but it was very good. A typical of the culinary world in Greece and Turkey, we asked for take away boxes because the food was too good to leave on the table. Our return trip to the hotel with our driver, Chris, took us by the Olympic Stadium where several Greek flags welcomed us to the birthplace of competitive sports. We snapped a few pics and kept making our way to the hotel where we quickly changed and crashed when we arrived.

We had a very pleasant drive to the airport. Our driver and valet spoke very good English and we discussed pre-Trump Turkey and current Turkey and how current politics make it difficult for them to travel to the US. It was an interesting conversation and offered me a perspective I don’t usually have as citizen. Our valet assisted us through security up to passport control where we said our goodbyes and proceed into the nicest airport I have ever been through. Not only is it huge but it has all the high end shops like Hermes, Chanel, and Louis Vuitton. The place was packed with people but extremely clean an incredibly beautiful. We made it to our gate where we met a young missionary from Kentucky who was traveling to Albania to meet his wife. We laughed and fellowship with him for about 30 minutes before we boarded the plane to Athens. Julie gave him 2 of her missionary bracelets to share the Word with others and we parted ways.

Through passport control and customs like nobody’s business, we found our driver and were headed to the airport in under an hour. The drive was only about 35 minutes and our sprinter van was super comfortable. Our hotel, the St. George Lyccabettus was in a great location and offered some pretty amazing views of the Acropolis. We checked in, dropped our bags, made a reservation for a private tour guide for the next day and caught a taxi over to the National Museum of Architecture. The museum has hundreds of artifacts predating Jesus by 9,000 years. I can’t even wrap my mind around that!

After the museum, we caught a cab down to the Acropolis where we found a nice restaurant with a view. Our cab driver was a 60 year old spaniard who was slick as owl shit and very loud. “America…….Coke Cola……..I love you guys……”. Somehow he managed to dropped us as a flea market where “his friends” worked which consisted of all kinds cheap trinkets. We dodged the bullet and told him to take us to the restaurant and bid him adieu. We were early so they let us sit on the roof before the dinner rush. We enjoyed a wonderful meal of goat with gruyere cheese, lamb with roasted veggies and calimari. We ate til we were more than full and then ordered dessert. Our server recommenced what he called Milk Pie which turned out to be a fancy Greek Chess Pie in phylo dough but it was very good. A typical of the culinary world in Greece and Turkey, we asked for take away boxes because the food was too good to leave on the table. Our return trip to the hotel with our driver, Chris, took us by the Olympic Stadium where several Greek flags welcomed us to the birthplace of competitive sports. We snapped a few pics and kept making our way to the hotel where we quickly changed and crashed when we arrived.

Athens

Day 1:

Up and out early, we took breakfast on the balcony facing the Acropolis. It was pleasant and the view was pretty spectacular. Off the elevator we were greeted by a woman wearing a flowing purple dress with matching neon purple mascara complimented with red eye glasses. “Helloooooo. I am MEE-SHELL. I will be your tour guide today”. We introduced ourselves and I explained to her our need to take it slow as we waited for our taxi. Almost all of the taxis in Athens are Mercedes sedans so they are pretty nice. Loaded up and ready to go, Michelle began her presentation and BAM!!!! We hit a moped in front of us. Our taxi driver, much like all of the drivers in Athens, drove like a bat out of hell and greeted others with the same passion and enthusiasm as a pissed of New York cabbie at rush hour. Ten minutes later and a small payment of restitution to the moped driver and we were on our way. As we came to the intersection of Zeus’s Temple our driver made the mistake of hitting the breaks hard again and I may or may not have let and expletive slip. At this point, Michelle started giving him what for and there was no need to interpret her Greek. We knew exactly what she said and he was less than thrilled. It was hilarious!

We arrived at the base of the Acropolis around 9:00 a.m. and it was already really hot and crowded. The walk up is pretty steep and slippery at times. We paces ourselves and took breaks so the Bullet was comfortable. As we made our way to the top, we passed the Odeon Theater, site of many famous performances and concerts. It’s and open air amphitheater dating back to ???? Continuing up to the top, you can find the Parthenon, Temple of Athena Nike, Proplyea and Erechtheion. The Parthenon was dedicated to the goddess Athena Parthenos and is considered the birthplace of democracy. At the top, there was quite a bit of restoration going on one side so we made our way around to the opposite side. Further on around we saw the Cariatids, sculpted female statues that support the porch of the Erechtheion. Further on around as we decended the steps we pass by the Areopagus rock where the apostle Paul preached to the Athenians, as mentioned in Acts. 17:16-34.

Further down the Dionysiou Aeropagitou (walkway), the Acropolis Museum was amazing. As we entered the museum, we walked over glass walkways that had entire settlements still intact below. It was a great introduction to the museum and the fantastic exhibits inside. Our tour guide was quite knowledgeable about greek mythology and history which proved to be quite captivating. I was not aware that the Parthenon was the first structure to be built entirely using the pythagorean method of ratios of 4:9. This is why there are 15 columns along the sides and 8 in the front and rear. Other things we learned were:

1. The symbol of the owl is often used when referring to the Acropolis because it denotes wisdom.

2. Minerals were crushed and used as pigment for many of the statues and sculptures. White was actually poisonous.

When we finished at the museum we said goodbye to Michelle and headed over to Plateia Monastiraki to do some shopping. We found some beautiful linen items and picked up a few things for loved ones. Our last stop was at place I had read about called Melissinos Art / Sandals where they will make you a custom pair of sandals on the spot. It took as a bit to find it but this tiny little gem was worth the hunt. Once a few people departed, we wiggled our way in and found a seat next to two delightful women from Ireland. As we made our acquaintances, a family from Jacksonville, Fla. came in and we played 6 degrees of separations only to figure out that we had mutual friends in Burgette Mooney’s daughter. Our Irish friends were super friendly and we exchanged contact information so they can give me some pointers on my upcoming trip to Dublin in March with my students. They were quite taken with the Bullet and even remarked “Oh my God. You are the cutest Blanche DuBuois”. With new sandals on my feet and new friends in my contact list, we stepped out of the store and hailed a cab back to the hotel. None of us were even remotely hungry so dinner was not a topic of conversation. When we arrived back at the hotel it took us about 10 minutes before all of us were fast asleep for a solid nap.

Day 2:

We spent the first half of the day down in the village looking for a roller bag because Julie and I purchased too much stuff! It was a bit of an Easter egg hunt at first but I am happy to say we were successful after we offended some women who said they were from a monastery and tried to shove a cross necklace onto us but when we did not give them money they certainly did not offer us any blessings.

At 1:00 p.m. we boarded the bus to head to the boat. The trip was short down to the dock and we were on board and in our cabin by 2:00 p.m. The ship is intimate and small and we had to be a bit creative in unpacking to get our bags out of the way but we managed. At 5:00 p.m. we set sail for Mykonos and the sunset was amazing.

Day 3: Mykonos

We woke up this morning anchored in the harbor of Mykonos. Know for it’s vibrant nightlife and beautiful beaches, it’s hard not to fall in love with this islands located in the Cyclades. The buildings are all painted bright white, by law, and are accented with doors and windows painted in various shades of blue to represent the Aegean Sea. As we made our way around the village we meandered in and out of some shops of local artists and merchants. We sampled some baked goods that tasted similar to divinity with an almond on top and some baklava. The alleys were narrow and clean and as we passed each shop we were greeted with a very pleasant smile and “Yasas”. One of the most beautiful things we saw all day was the bougainviliea that was tucked into the alley ways. At one point, we turned a corner and both sides of the alley way had one on each side which made for a colorful tunnel to pass through as we shopped. Our tour guide showed us a 300 year old bakery, a church of St. Mary and 16th century windmills.

Later we boarded a bus to see the other side of the island where we toured a vineyard and sampled some authentic Greek wine. Of course, we bought a few bottles to bring back home to share. After our tour of the winery, we hoped back on to the bus where we went into town for a snack of mezze and ouzo. Let me just say that if you don’t like licorice you will not like ouzo. They poured us each a small shot and we all toasted with a loud “OPA”……and then knocked back what looked like a milky white shot. I immediately regretted my participation because there is nothing I dislike more than licorice! The Bullet did not care of it either but was much more diplomatic about her dislike than me. We were serenaded by two gentlemen singing traditional Greek songs playing a guitar and bouzouki. Back on the bus and headed back to town, we decided to walk back through the alley ways of town on our way to the boat tender. Julie made a new friend (shocker) in a merchant who happened to travel to Buckhead quite frequently. After a small snack of fried cheese with fig jam on top we boarded the tender and we’re on the boat in no time.

I can see why people flock to this island for holiday. The views are unbelievable no matter what time of day and the people are very more than friendly. We found the food to be fresh, creative and always presented with great appreciation for our patronage. Julie says if she doesn’t make the flight back to Atlanta, you may want to start looking for her in Mykonos.

Day 4: Kusasai, Turkey

Up and on the tender by 8:30 a.m., our day in Kusadasi, Turkey began with a tour of the ancient city of Ephesus. Recognized as UNESCO’s most famous historical sites, Ephesus is the place the Apostle Paul preached to the Ephesians. As we toured the ruins we saw incredible examples of Roman baths, jewelry merchants, and even the first water closet (bathrooms with crude plumbing). As we made our way down to the Celsius Library, I was struck by the ornate marble work on the columns and entry way complimented with Greek inscriptions. In ancient times, there were three very famous libraries including the one in Athens, the Celcus Library and that of Cleopatra in Alexandria. To the right of the library we walked down a long path lined with pillars that once led to the sea but were now full of beautiful pine trees. Thousands of years of silt have pushed the sea back 5 miles from where it used to sit at the edge of the city. Further down the path we came to the theater that seats 25,000 people. Although not initially quite so large, the theater had seats and rows added by the Romans as time passed. We departed Ephesus and made our way to the museum in town. It was small but laid out well and we were able to see the busts of statues from the site. Additionally, we saw remarkable statures of Artemis and Aphrodite (Goddess of Fertility) at the end of the exhibit. After the museum, we were taken to ta carpet merchant who gave us a presentation about carpet weaving and how they manufacture them by hand. What initially was a very interesting demonstration turned into an over the top sales pitch resulting in us walking outside to get away from all the pushy salesmen. Our tour guide came out to check on us which turned out to be delightful. Our guide, Zachary, was a history teacher in Izmir who taught Greek, French and Spanish as well. He was very knowledgeable about Islam, Christianity and Judaism which made his perspective invaluable. Zachary was quite taken with the Bullet and her blue eyes and called her “Mama” for the remainder of the tour. After about 30 minutes of fellowship with our new friend, we returned to the ship for 3-4 hours before our evening at Ephesus. Because we were sailing with Windstar, we were granted a unique experience to dine at the steps of the Celsius Library at dusk. We arrived to a beautiful set up for white table cloths and floral arrangements with a 3 piece chamber group playing classical music. At 8:00 p.m. the lights came on and it was magic. The ancient ruins took on a completely different look and dinner was fabulous. We sat with our friends, Erica and Wanda, from Dallas and laughed like school girls for the entire evening. Also at our table, was a nice couple from Scottsdale, Steward and Megan, that we met earlier in the day. Around 9:30 p.m., dinner ended and we all meandered back to the bus where we were almost catatonic from such a full day. As walked down the pier to the ship, we were able to capture some pretty cool images accurately depicting our day between two continents. We all said our goodbyes as we boarded the boat and called it a day.

Day 5: Patmos

When we woke up on day 5 anchored in the harbor of Patmos. One of the smaller Greek isles, Patmos is most famous for the Monastery of St. John and the Cave of the Apocalypse, is located in the town of Hora. The place where the Apostle John wrote the book of Revelation while he was exiled from Ephesus. The Cave of the Apocalypse, is located in the town of Hora. As we waited for tickets, we introduced ourselves to a nice couple who were traveling with their daughter. Ivan and Blaine Allen and their daughter Taylor were from Buckhead, Ga. and it did not take long for us to figure out that we had a mutual friend in Harold Wyatt. Blaine snapped a picture of us and sent it to Little H and his response was classic. “The Silver Bullet and Sweet P!!” We then made the realization that this Ivan Allen was the grandson of the former Mayor of Atlanta. Small world!

We began with the cave and then made our way up to the Monastery of St. John. The walk up the hill was hot and steep but the interior was filled with beautiful frescos and works from 1088 AD. The tour continued to other parts of the monastery but the Bullet and I tapped out and opted for a cold beer with a view. We found a beautiful restaurant on the side of the cliff and several of our friends joined us. We ended up with 5-6 people at our table and Jimmie, our new Greek host, told us all about his time as a taxi driver in NYC and Harlem. He was an Iowa Hawkeye and professed to have friends in high places such as the CEO of Coke Cola. Refreshed and back on the bus, our group made our way to the next stop, a local restaurant with greek dancing, We enjoyed a nice selection of traditional greek dishes while the folk dancers twisted and turned their way around the restaurant. It was fun and a good end to a beautiful day.

Day 6: Santorini

The night before we arrived in Santorini I noticed there was a fog rolling in and the air was full of moisture. The next morning when we arrived up on deck the air was thick and the sun was out promising for a steamy day ahead. The village of Fira is located in the center of the island and is also the location of the cable car that takes you to the top of the cliffs. You can elect to ride a burro to the top if you don’t mind the smell and are feeling adventurous. For 6 euro each we opted for the cable car and made our way to the top. Just off the cable car, we met our guide (Dimitria Lola) whom I had contracted a few weeks prior. Dimitria and her husband Thomas were both from Greece and now called Santorini home for 8 months of the year as full time tour guides.

We all loaded up in a nice van and headed north to Oia, the most picturesque part of the island. Known for it’ blue domes and white buildings, Oia, sees approximately 10,000 visitors per day, mostly from the cruise ships that are anchored in the harbor. We spent about 1.5 hours taking pictures, shopping and enjoying the views before we headed south to Akrotiri. Akrotiri is knowns for their acidic grapes and wine vineyards. What is unique about these vineyards is that the plants grow in the shape of a basket protecting the grapes that grow on the inside of the basket of vines and leaves. As we enjoyed our lunch of bruschetta, wine and cheese, we met a nice couple from Montreal, Canada. Andre and Olivia came to Greece every two years and his uncle is quite a famous artists all over Europe. Again, the Bullet’s enthusiasm and charm won over new friends. We spent the next 30 minutes laughing and learning about our families and each other’s love of travel and good food. We hugged, wished each other well and parted ways.

Dimitria and Thomas wanted to show us their little village before taking us back towards the ship so we continued a little further south. Thomas dropped us at the top of the street where we saw more grape vines and pistachio trees. As we continued down into the village, it was obvious that Dimitria has many friends because we could not get past a shop without someone coming out to introduce themselves or to greet us with an endearing “Ya sas”. In the middle of the village, we stopped for a scoop of ice cream before Dimitria showed us where she and Thomas live for 8 months of the year.

We wrapped up our day back in the center of Fire where it seemed like all 10,000 people where trying to catch the cable car back to the bottom of the cliffs. We said goodbye to Dimitria and Thomas and exchanged contact information in case they made it to Georgia or Colorado to return their wonderful hospitality. We opted to sit and enjoy the view after saying goodbye to let the line die down. The wait was not near as bad as we thought and we found ourselves back down the hill and on the boat in less than an hour.

Day 7: Monemvisa

Our day in Monemisa began with an eventful tender where the seas were so choppy it took us two times to get everyone on board. Loaded up and on our way, the passengers on the tender (lifeboat) were less than thrilled about the rough ride but were more than relieved when we made it to shore. We had a large group for the day and all made it onto a 40 passenger bus. We had 2 tour guides due to the large number. As we began making our way to the medieval village, one of our tour guides began her presentation via the microphone on the bus. The Bullett was sitting besides me and it was as if I could read her mind so I just leaned over and said “I just want to let you know that the person speaking on the microphone is a female.” With a completely predictable gasp and a “no way” response, she popped up out of her seat for visible proof. We did not quite catch the tour guides’ name but quickly named her Cigarette due to the melodious bass of her voice. Once we arrived to the village we chose the other tour guide because we would not have behaved and the other tour guide was off the bus and ready to go. As we made our way through the tight streets and alley ways, we ducked into so neat shops and admired the endless splashes of the bougainnvllia and olive trees woven into the landscape. The streets were a combinations of marble and cobblestone which required a sharp eye and keen sense of balance at times. We only spent about 1.5 hours in the village before we boarded the bus again and were headed to a local olive vineyard. It took us about 30 minutes to drive out to the vineyard and the topography reminded me of the western slope of Colorado. Rolling hills of dry and arid land dotted with olive trees and grape vines.

At the vineyard we had a lesson on how to bake fresh bread and also on how to prune, harvest and maintain the olive trees. We had a history lesson on how they continue to harvest and process the olive oil in the same manner they did hundreds of years ago. About 10 minutes in to the lesson the Bullet’s head was bobbing and I could tell she was taking a brief cat nap behind her new knock off Gucci shades. Lesson over and food on the table, the three of us snagged a spot and began sampling the local fare. Tomatoes, cucumbers, feta, and onions with fresh baked bread and olive oil put a little pep in our step to get back to the bus. Since the tour was an afternoon tour, we returned to the tender when we got off the bus. We were hoping the seas had calmed down for the return trip but weren’t that lucky. Julie got caught on the 2nd boat with our friends Wanda and Erica from Dallas. Wanda was sitting at the front of the boat when it hit a huge wave and smashed all over her. In one smooth move, she opened her purse and downed two mini bottles of vodka. When they made it back on to the boat, Wanda was all kind of worked up from the rough ride. I looked in her purse and there were 6 empty mini bottles. “Wanda, they’re all empty.”……..”YOU DAMN RIGHT THEY’RE EMPTY. BLACK PEOPLE DON’T LIKE THE WATER AND THAT RIDE WAS HELL”. Exhausted and ready for a nap, we all headed to our cabins.

Dinner was a challenge to say the least. When we arrived, Wanda and Eric had already been seated and Wanda was torched. The seas had become worse and the boat was rolling with the waves. Our wine glasses were a perfect bell weather for how much we were moving. After an amazing dinner, the Bullet decided to head to the room so I escorted her down. She sent me back up to check on Julie and to make sure Wanda made it to her room. By the time I came back up, it was definitely time for Wanda to retire and Julie read my mind. We wrapped it up and we told Wanda we would help her get down to the 1st deck. After a challenging stop at the ladies room, Wanda made it down the steps and then decided she wanted to run down the hallway. (Wanda is approx. 5’9’ and 220 lbs). Luckily, Erica heard her in the hallway and stepped out with a look like “You better get your ass in this room right now” and we closed the door after she made the turn. A quick high five with Julie and we headed to our room for the night.

Day 8: Nafplio

Completely exhausted from a rough night on the waves, we boarded the bus for Epidarus and the Venetian Fortress. When we arrived, a lot us had motion sickness so we made the tour a little faster than usual. Julie went back to the bus and the Bullet and I did the fly by on the ruins and went straight for the theater. It was really neat to hear the acoustics and to see what would become the model of all major stadiums built out of marble and stone. A few pics and videos later and we were on the bus to the Venetian Fortress in town.

Luckily, the bus took us all the way to the top and dropped us off at the fortress. As we entered, the Greek flag billowed in the wind and welcomed us to a beautiful vista high up on the cliffs. The blues and greens of the ocean were indescribable and thin veil of clouds that hung in the air made the picture complete. We meandered around for a bit and enjoyed being on solid ground but mostly we enjoyed the view from up top. We only stayed for about an hour before we headed back down to town where I got off to check out the local shops and the rest headed back to the boat to rest.

Our last evening on the boat, we had dinner on the deck at sunset. As the sun made its way across the sky, we could not take enough pictures to adequately capture its beauty. The wind picked up so we moved our table slightly under cover and as we finished, our friends Joe and Kathy Peer (Greenville, S.C.) joined us to say their goodbyes. We laughed and promised to visit each other, a scene we repeated with everyone we had met during the cruise. It as a perfect ending to our cruise and a great introduction to people from all over the globe.

[cpblaylock-blog]

A New Normal

The holiday season has enveloped us like the cool winds that creep in with October and November. The leaves have already lost their fall colors, the green has evaporated from the grass with the first frost and the afternoon sunsets turn into spectacular canvases of orange, pinks and purples I could watch for hours each evening sitting on the back porch.

Historically, the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays consist of 30+ family members (or friends we consider family) gathering at the barn for great food, lots of laughter and spontaneous reminiscing about life’s funny moments we shared as kids, parents, siblings and spouses. Most often, we laughed about my father’s ridiculous temper and his affinity to give you a lecture on the same topic for the umteenth time, my mother’s forgetful nature for leaving at least one child somewhere in public on more than one occasion or Gardner’s ability to get a spanking a day for an entire year when he was 9 (no, this is not an exaggeration). Now that our children are all older, the main characters of the narratives have changed but the memories still provide the same thread that has kept us close as a family.

This holiday season will be different for my boys and me as we celebrate in different households with new friends and families. We are no longer a family of 4 but we celebrate with new friends and their extended families. What an opportunity to give thanks for new traditions and routines we now share with others and the blessings we have been granted as a result.

I continue to be thankful for two amazing young men who are navigating a “new normal”with a resilience and determination to move forward and chase their dreams, all while making sure Mama is ok with a text, hug, phone call, or lunch date.

I am thankful for my golf friends, who are more like my family of 30-40 big brothers. They have been quick to offer kind words of love and support during a year that was pretty challenging for this old girl. Truthfully, they are my “safe space” where I am one of guys just playing golf, telling lies and pulling pranks on lifelong friends who know the joy of camaraderie and round of golf shared with friends. Regardless of my score, I come out a winner after every round because the commentary and laughter on the course it what will be remembered, not the number.

Sometimes, new normals are exactly what God has intended for us. They can be uncomfortable, emotional and hard when we are in the thick of it, but we never know what blessings are in store as we continue moving forward.

[cpblaylock-blog]

New Beginnings

One of the consistent messages that I have been reminded off and try and share with my boys is that events resulting in turmoil, disruption, and uncertainty are incredible opportunities to demonstrate obedience to God‘s plan and purpose for us. I remind them that it is easy to be obedient and thankful when everything is calm, consistent and good but only the faithful will ground themselves in their faith when the devil does his work. Raising two boys has most assuredly provided ample number of opportunities to reiterate this message however, it was not until recently, that I began to contemplate the result of our obedience and the grace that God provides. What I know now, is that demonstrated obedience leads to the most incredible gifts and blessings later in life. Sometimes these come in the form of people into your life, as it has mine, and sometimes it is just the simplest answered prayer.

As part of my healing process, I have been intentionally contemplating the purpose of people in my life, events that have occurred, and where I am currently. More specifically, I think about the way I have done things and conducted myself in regard to obedience. I am thankful for the Silver Bullet who demonstrated steadfast obedience in her own life that taught me a long time ago there are appropriate ways to conduct yourself, to treat people and that people will remember even the most minute interaction. When I rewind some of my defining moments, sometimes there is regret for my actions and rhetoric and sometimes there is peace in knowing I handled it with grace. The latter can only be attributed to God’s guidance and a lot of prayer during the darkest of days. Regardless, I am resolute in believing that God’s blessings and answered prayers for me are in abundance of what I deserve but so desperately need to make it in this life.

New beginnings are awkward, uncertain and terrifying especially if they occur at or after mid-life. I guess there is some association with these feelings and the term mid-life crisis but I don’t consider these events as crisis but opportunity. Regardless, I find myself in an interesting phase of life, one that I never anticipated experiencing but am most grateful. No boys at home to cook for or do laundry, regular late afternoon golf days with my buddies to pass the time, and working into the wee hours to get the job done on time fill my days. The rat race of kids, cooking, work and travel has screeched to a crawl and I have to say, life is good, God is good and I am thankful for the blessing of healing.

[cpblaylock-blog]

Broken People Make the Best Gifts

I’m a contemplative person, especially the older I get. Call it age, experience, but definitely not wisdom. Maybe it’s just the former educator in me trying to understand why life takes certain turns and the reason we experience things like heartbreak, stress, sorrow, healing and love.

As I begin a new relationship, I appreciate new variables in people that I quite honestly overlooked in the past because I could not empathize. Heartbreak is a deep wound that lasts for the remainder of your life to some degree for those of us who have experienced it. We all want to “do it right” the first time but life happens and people become the wounded. Picking up the pieces is beyond scary and the devil creeps in to offer doubt and uncertainty about looks, attraction, and one’s ability to be a good partner. But just as quickly as a flashlight cuts through the darkness, so is God’s reminder that my obedience has provided me with a gift in my new companion. We are both imperfect, broken people from former relationships and life’s challenges and we each have our own scars from our respective journeys. For me, he is like a gift I bought for Christmas and hid but forgot about for a long time. When I found it months later, it may be wrinkled and torn on the outside but the gift on the inside is what matters. It may take a little delicate unwrapping but the gift inside will last a long time because I can empathize and appreciate the “wrapping”.

[cpblaylock-blog]

When the Spirit Moves Me

Recently, I was having an in depth conversation with someone I care for a great deal. We have spent a good deal of time together in the past 2 months and we often talk at length about a myriad of things. I find it very easy to be honest and candid with him without judgment or recompense, regardless of the topic. After playing golf one day he asked me “are you always this easy going and happy?” My immediate response was to laugh it off and offer a superficial explanation along the lines of “I have experienced some pretty emotionally draining events in my life but I don’t have any reason not to be thankful and happy”. As the evening progressed, we covered the latest golf news, a bit of local politics and several other items. I kept having an inclination to return to my earlier response. Just a small voice in my head prompting me to give more thought to what he observes in me to make such a statement about my demeanor and attitude. The next day, we attended his church and the message was about the Holy Spirit and I immediately knew why the voice in my head kept offering me a nudge. The message was about how the Holy Spirit manifests itself and what those qualities look like in people who have accepted Christ as their Savior.

Secretly, I was hoping I had become one of “those people”. You know, the ones you meet periodically in life whom you immediately enjoy being around because they are filled with love, laughter and kindness. I often refer to these people as “magnetic” because they are the type of people you want and enjoy being around, but why is that? If you are a believer, then you know exactly what I am talking about. These are the people in whom you can see and feel Holy Spirit. Their disposition, love and kindness is palpable, peaceful and beautiful. They are vessels of God’s word and examples of His promise of salvation. Resolute in their faith and walk knowing their eternal destination is but a breath away.

Is this what my friend sees in me? Who knows for sure but I sure hope so. In the meantime, I can only work to be obedient, putting my faith in God’s plan and purpose for my life while I love, laugh, forgive and be thankful along the way. Life on earth is too short and there are way too many opportunities to love all God’s people in this rodeo.

[cpblaylock-blog]

Thank the Ones Who Got You There

I have had my fair share of coaches and mentors in life and probably still have one or two that will emerge as I move past mid-life. Recently, I learned that one of my coaches will be inducted into the Furman University Athletic Hall of Fame which prompted me to reflect on all of the coaches I was fortunate enough to have and what life lesson I took away from my time with them.

I did not begin playing golf until the age of 13. Prior to that, I played anything and everything my mother could sign me up for and get to for practice. Little league boys baseball, YMCA swim team, gymnastics you name it, I played it. As I got older, my father felt I needed to focus on more feminine pursuits so I stopped playing baseball and picked up tennis and golf. It didn’t take much for me to be hooked because I just loved smashing the ball. There was absolutely zero finesse in my game but I knew enough to make me want to get better. My first lesson was with Alan Pinson, an assistant professional at Coosa Country Club at the time. When I hit the 1st ball, Alan’s eyes lit up and he said “oh boy. Not sure I’ve seen a teenage girl hit a ball quite like that”. For the next 5 years, I continued to take lessons with and work for Alan. Late afternoon rounds, junior tournaments, washing golf carts, and picking up range balls were fantastic opportunities for him to dispense advice about golf, boys, school and my future. His advice was always laced with laughter and love making it easy to me want to be there. Fast forward 15 years and I had played in every professional major on both the European Tour and LPGA, 4 NCAA National Championships and various other “pressure cooker” tournaments and I can tell you the game is the same as it was at age 14 and his advice still applicable. Alan taught me to be authentic, laugh at your bad shots, be grateful for the good ones and always keep perspective of what is important. Alan has an infectious laugh and wonderful sense of humor; understanding what golf is for people and that it can provide the basis for lifelong friendships and good times.

Being a 5-sport athlete in high-school, I could list quite a few coaches but there is one who was so much more than a coach for me as an insecure adolescent female athlete. David Rhodes was my high school basketball and golf coach for all 4 years. From him, I learned many valuable lessons but most importantly David taught me that father’s don’t have to be biological, that a man of faith can be remarkably powerful in the lives of all of those around him and that compassion is one of God’s greatest blessing. For me, Coach Rhodes provided a safe space and refuge at a time when I was terrified of peer pressure, boys, and not being feminine. In the late 1980’s, to be a competitive successful female athlete brought certain stereotypes that were tough to deal with at 14 years old. They do not bother me now because I have had a lifetime of experience to know that stereotypes are tools of the inferior and those who lack depth. My youngest son is named after David and I can only hope that he grows into the kind, compassionate, man of faith that was such a blessing to me when I needed it most.

Let’s just establish that I am competitive, regardless of the circumstance or sport. I absolutely hate to lose and will endeavor to practice anything until I am the best or at least I feel I have reached my potential. At Furman University, I found a coach who totally understood how to motivate me beyond my own expectation. Mic Potter recruited athletes and made no bones about being able to “turn them into great players”. This was definitely the case with me as I completed my freshman year with a scoring average in the low 80’s, less than acceptable. At the All-American banquet at the NCAA National Championship at Arizona State my freshman year, the lightbulb went off. “Mic, why are these people being recognized? What do you have to do to get up there?” Mic’s response was direct and on point - “these are the best of the best, the All-Americans”. I got it and for the next three years, Mic guided and directed me to a path of being a 3-time All American, collegiate tournament wins and a career in professional golf for the next 10. What I took away from my time with Mic is something I remind myself of quite frequently, be your own motivation, work harder than anyone else, and enjoy the results of your effort. My professional career path would have been drastically different had it not been for Mic and I am only 1 of hundreds of women who can say that about such an incredible man and coach.

If you find yourself in the role of coach, teacher, mentor or leader of young people remember, the impact you make during this period in your student-athletes’ lives may not be visible until they are almost 50. I only regret not having the appreciation and perspective I have now during the times I worked with these men but I sure hope they know I cherish the time and lessons I had with each of them.

#coach #mentor #golf #lpga

[cpblaylock-blog]

I’M NOT AFRAID TO SAT IT

I used to be scared to tell someone I loved them. I know it sounds weird but it’s true. I guess it is because my understanding of what “I Love You” meant when I was younger and what it means as an adult are grossly different. When I was younger, I was only comfortable articulating those three words to my immediate family or my significant other. To me, it was extremely intimate and not something I wanted to say to someone without truly meaning the words. Maybe it was my fear of being vulnerable or that of rejection but I can tell you, I did not utter it often outside my inner circle.

Today, the wrinkles on my face show I am older, the grey in my hair suggests wiser, and my amiable demeanor is an indication I have endured some heavy burdens over the years and I am not willing to get worked up over something I can not control. At almost 50, my lens on life and understanding of loving each other is vastly different. People from all over the world have come and gone, in and out of my life like the tide rolling in and out at the beach. Sometimes they enter quietly with just a subtle interaction and other times they crash in like the largest waves just before a humid tropical storm. Regardless, as I navigate life and experience the highs and lows with the people I have been fortunate to meet, compassion and empathy are the bricks to a foundation of love that now permeates every fiber of my being. Where I may have been quick to pass judgement or stereotype someone when I was younger, I now ask questions, appreciate their uniqueness, celebrate diversity and just do my best to love people. The result of all of these life experiences has led me to change my perspective on such a seemingly simple expression. I know now that people need to hear, see and feel they are loved and it is paramount for me and my emotional health that my people know that I love and respect them.

So, if I we have travelled together, trained for races, been in a Bible study, flown a plane, played golf, worked together, or have just been acquaintances just know this - I LOVE YOU.

[cpblaylock-blog]

A Trip for Healing 🇮🇪🍀

Life is unpredictable and so are the choices our loved ones make. We can navigate our path with such certainty until we are given the opportunity to change directions, offer grace and forgiveness and be grateful for the chance to demonstrate God’s love.

Divorce is hard, destroys your self worth and dignity but it offers and incredible opportunity for self-reflection. Months of time by myself in the car, at home and in hotel rooms have completely clarified what I really already knew - my boys are the center of my universe and the best of what a 25 year marriage produced. I am confident that God designed them perfectly for me to be their mom to raise, teach, and love.

I also know that we love to travel and have been fortunate to do so since the boys were very young. I am a firm believer that the best way to teach my boys about different cultures, religions, foods and people is to experience them through travel. They have already been to countries such as China, Korea, Austria, Germany, Italy, Canada and more.

Recently the boys and I took a trip to Ireland 🇮🇪. They have always wanted to go to the Guinness Storehouse, go to a traditional Irish pub and see the beautiful countryside. Our trip started in Dublin and circumnavigated the southwest part of Ireland along the Ring of Kerry back to Dublin. We stayed at a beautiful B&B in Kenmare, played golf at Waterville Golf Club and toured cities like Galway, Cork, and Kilkenny. My sides hurt from laughter watching Jackson try and drive a manual on the left and Stiles imitating the locals. If they thanked me once, they thanked and hugged me 100 times for an amazing trip.

For me, this trip served a different purpose - that of healing. Travel has always provided an outlet from the stress that life as a parent and spouse brings. It envelops me like a good book where the narrative burns through the pages with anticipation at what comes next. It is my absolute favorite thing to see my boys eyes light up with wonder at what they are experiencing. I can only compare it to what us parents see on Christmas morning when our kids tear through countless presents. The excitement at what Santa has left under the tree is palpable from the moment they wake up to the rip of paper on the very last gift. This is what it’s like to travel with my boys.

What I take away from this trip and the last 6 months is this - we can offer grace and forgiveness to live a life of love and happiness which the boys and I have chosen to do. People make mistakes but that does not define them. Our path may have changed but the destination is still the same and God’s grace will be our ticket for admission.

#ireland #travel #forgiveness #healing

[cpblaylock-blog]

Life is a symphony, if we take the time to listen.

I love classical music.  There, I admitted it.  I also love to travel.  The allure of the hustle and bustle of airports, wheat fields whizzing by the car window or the sound of the ocean waves lapping on the hull of the ship gently pushing me towards my destination are all variables in a complex equation that ultimately result in my delight.  What is new for me though is the accompanying sound track for each of my journeys.

Not long ago, I purchased a pair of noise cancelling headphones (yes, I paid too much) that now accompany me on all of my trips.  Pair them with my extensive classical music playlist on my iPhone and we have ourselves a full blown Hollywood production.  I typically begin with my early morning departure listening to Debussy’s Claire de Lune, which is a romantic piece with subtle movements but totally hypnotic for me.  This piece takes its title from a poem by the French poet Paul Verlaine which depicts the soul as somewhere full of music ‘in a minor key’ where birds are inspired to sing by the ‘sad and beautiful’ light of the moon.  That would explain the hypnotic effect it has on me making it one of my most frequently played pieces.  

Today, as the plane climbed higher and higher in conjunction with the notes of Aaron Copeland’s The Red Pony, they swirled and built in anticipation for a breathtaking break through of the cloud layer into a magnificent sunrise with the Rocky Mountains in the background.  As we emerged into the sunlight, I looked back over the mountains to see snow capped mountains and the last little bit of a full moon slipping below the silhouette of the mountains.  Moving further into my production a hint of contemporary music filled my ears as Helen Jane Long’s Expression played.  Delicate runs on the piano accompanied by the violin cause my focus to narrow and I was able to whiz through work emails and game schedules with ease.  Occasionally, this piece also causes me to reflect on events that have been defining moments in my life as it did today but I did not dwell there long as my production score transitioned into Aaron Copeland’s Fanfare for the Common Man.  Completely appropriate for the destination of this trip, (Washington D.C.) Copeland’s music became known as America’s music and he America’s composer during WWII primarily for composing music that would boost patriotism.  

As our plane made its approach, the final piece in my score is perhaps my all time favorite, Legends of the Fall by James Horner.  What an incredible combination of gentle notes that eased us down onto the runway and on to a new adventure accompanied by a delightful soundtrack for sure.

It does not seem significant or even very important in the grand scheme of the chaos that becomes our everyday lives but music has become my therapy, my go to for calm in the storm and the musical score to my very complex production.  So the next time you have to travel through a busy airport or travel a long distance, do yourself a favor and download a classical playlist and enjoy what unfolds in front of you.  I highly recommend it.

#classical music #debussy #copeland #travel #boseheadphones

[cpblaylock-blog]

Travel with Kindness

I have travelled a lot since I was 15 years old.  Sometimes my travel is work related but most recently it has been for pleasure.  It is an addiction of sorts that often finds me longing for intrigue and adventure if I stay home too long.  I admit I am a bit of a travel snob, taking pride in the skill with which I can navigate any airport without provocation or delay.  I have even taken the necessary steps to avoid the long lines at customs and have the appropriate Delta SkyMiles status so my bags come off of the belt first. (If I even check a bag, which I rarely do)

This trip was different.  

Traveling with loved ones who are extroverted and social would seem to be stressful but for me this trip offered a new lens through which to experience one of my favorite hobbies, traveling.  Perhaps I am more observant after my dad’s passing or due to my mother’s recent health issues.  Regardless, what I witnessed and had the pleasure of being a part of on numerous occasions were acts of genuine kindness towards others, most times complete strangers.  Quite simply, the Silver Bullet and my sister Julie are givers. Most people who know them understand what I mean.  Constantly offering a heartfelt greeting followed by a compliment or kind word is how their conversation with a stranger or new person went. People say they have an aura or way about them that exudes love and kindness and it is quite honestly, infectious.  I like to think that they emulate God’s love and kindness and it is just a representation of Him in action. I wish I were more like them but the wick to my temper is often times short and my response is not representative of how I truly feel about people but a manifestation of frustration and impatience.

As if perfectly orchestrated, our trip was cast with characters from all over the globe whose one common thread was kindness.  In Turkey, we met Unal Ayadin, a remarkable tour guide who offered empathy and kindness to the Bullet by accommodating our pace and showing us what makes Istanbul special.  We enjoyed the hospitality and company of Belma Hasserbetci, a former Darlington parent, who told us of her love of the south and the people who make it an inviting community as we shared an amazing meal full of traditional Turkish fare.  When we were departing Turkey, we met a missionary from Kentucky (Stephen Montgomery) who was serving in Albania.  Just before we boarded the plane, Julie removed a bracelet from her arm with small crosses on it and gave it to Stephen and told him to give it to his wife because “she was beautiful and deserved something that sparkled”.  He was so moved that he asked to take a picture with us to remember his new friends.

As our trip progressed to Athens, the storyline continued.  We had several days to explore on our own before getting on our cruise.  At the end of a long day of touring the Acropolis, we found ourselves in Melissimos’ Art and Sandal shop in the Plaka.  Picture a hole in the wall shop with barely enough room to get inside.  Once we were seated we met Janet and Crona from Ireland.  They were immediately taken with the Bullet’s accent and even paid her a most heartfelt compliment, calling her Blanch Devereux because they loved her accent and she was “the cutest little thing they had met on their journey”.  We laughed and exchanged our information since I will be in Ireland in March hoping to cross paths again.  In return, Julie offered them a place to stay if they made it to the US, a scenario that played out more than once on this trip.

(Janet McKennedy and Crona McCarthy from Ireland with the Bullet)

The next day as we boarded the ship, the initial introductions almost always were accompanied with a compliment such as “you have the most beautiful eyes” or “your dress is stunning” and my favorite of the week “I love hearing your brain work out loud”.  Where most people (including myself) may have been annoyed by a pre-teen boys’ offering of his unbridled opinions and perspective on topics far outreaching his scope of study, Julie chose to offer a kind word which not only was kind but made her a friend for the rest of the week.  

As our trip unfolded and more characters were introduced to the story, each one almost always remarked how amazing the Bullet was and how they admired her vigor and desire to experience life through all five senses.  We saw the most iconic and significant historical sites in the history of civilization, ate remarkable food that was indicative of traditional dishes of Turkey and Greece, heard the symphony of languages and cultures combined with the fast paced life of modern cities, smelled the salt of the ocean and the spices of a thousand generations at the Grand Bazaar, and most importantly we felt the love of people from all over the globe who were enamored and appreciative of the kindness that was offered upon introduction.  Again, the aura and appeal that the Bullet and Julie had was palpable and omnipresent and it was not just me who picked up on it.  By the end of our cruise, the Bullet was referred to as Mama Sally and they all wanted a hug or reassurance that they were friends.  We had new friends in places like Quebec, Dublin, Greenville, Istanbul, Albania, and so many more.  It was endearing, meaningful and a remarkable thing to experience and made this trip special in a way that I very inadequately try and capture in a few paragraphs.  I am forever grateful to have had the opportunity to travel to new destinations, for them showing me the importance of extending kindness to strangers as a way to connect in a way that is personal and meaningful but I am most appreciative of all for time spent with my inner circle.  

(Dimitra and Thomas - Tour guides in Santorini)

(Mesut Rasoly with us at the Grand Bazaar)

#istanbul #turkey #greece #cruise #bosphorus #traveljunkie

[cpblaylock-blog]

Papa

He was a man of many dispositions, flawed and imperfect but relentlessly devoted to his family.  I have so many vivid memories of my father as do my siblings and many of my friends.  Some are side splitting funny, usually relating to his uncontrollable temper and quite a few recounted the mischief he would find with his closest friends.  Growing up in a small town in the south was a gift. Growing up in a small town where your last name distinguishes you as “one of Jule’s kids” was like wearing a shiny new medal on your uniform because you were constantly reminded of your family history every time you drove by the park or other places in town with PEEK written on them.  I remember being so proud of the historical significance of my family lineage because Big Jule was a master story teller and made sure his children knew the role his father and grandfather played in the early days of Cedartown.  At the same time, it was like having the white hot beacon of accountability shining on you like the prison watch guard following you around all the time with the big spotlight because you could not get away with ANYTHING.  If you were shooting bottle rockets illegally out on Cherokee Road or cruising Main Street a little too fast and got pulled over, the conversation with the officer was usually short and ended something like this - “You Jule Peek’s daughter?..........Yes, sir........Well hell, I’m gonna let you go this time and tell your dad he owes me a drink at The Red Dog.........Yes sir.”  

As I grew older, Big Jule “took up” golf to have an excuse to spend time with me as he did with my sister and horses.  Again, his temper proved to be entertaining one day when he got so mad he threw his putter into the tree on the last hole.  When I asked him if he was going to go get it he said “no.  I’ll get it later”.  Well, 45 minutes later when we were driving out he stopped the car alongside the road and walked around the trunk and pulled out a shotgun.  A few casual steps and one KABOOM later, the putter was retrieved (with a little bird shot damage) and in the trunk.  Fast forward 10 years when I was playing professionally on the LPGA Tour and this was one of our go to stories for instant laughs.  

I know Papa loved watching me play no matter what sport it involved.  If it was baseball, basketball, tennis, track or golf - he was there.  I remember him driving me to tournaments in Florida, Tennessee, Georgia and South Carolina and regardless of where we went, he knew the best places to eat and usually struck up a conversation with someone in less than 5 minutes.  He would usually offer his “tips” on traveling such as “always look for local tags in the parking lots of restaurants.  The locals know what’s good.”  His greatest gift though was that of conversation. The man could talk to ANYBODY.  It didn’t matter if they were a day laborer or federal judge; he would befriend them, start talking and by the end of the conversation they sounded like old schoolmates. To watch him at work was like watching your own episode of reality t.v.

In college, he would “stop by” Furman quite frequently saying it was on his way to the next paper mill.  I didn’t care, I was always happy to see him, share a good meal and laugh at all the funny family stories we could recall.  He would leave me with a big hug and a little money in my pocket to get something to eat and always reminded me to work hard and be respectful.

These are just a few of the memories I have with my dad. I choose to remember his laugh, his crooked leg for which he created multiple stories of how it was injured, his uncanny wit, and his adoration of all 5 children. His best attributes can be seen in each of my siblings which is a daily reminder of his true legacy. His wit, humor and laughter is in Asa, his competitive nature and work ethic in me and Gardner, his ability to make conversation and friends with anyone in Julie and his empathy and wisdom in Jule Jr.

Today, as I watched him draw his last breath, I looked at his hands and then at my own.  The long boney fingers threaded with tendons and painted with freckles, looked just like mine.  They were once strong and vibrant but were now weary and weak - finished with the work done on earth.  I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for what he provided as a father and thankful that in the end he was forgiven and had accepted Jesus as his savior. He fell short of all God’s glory as we all do but I rest in knowing I will see him again someday.

Thank you Papa for being my biggest fan, letting me play with the boys, teaching me to never accept being average but most of all for the hardest life lessons and the opportunity to extend you grace, practice forgiveness and to love unconditionally. 

I love you big, Dynomite ❤️❤️❤️

[cpblaylock-blog]

Cartagena, Columbia - March 2019

Hot, humid, full of culture and beautiful views.