Oh Lord, you might as well ask me to pick a favorite grandbaby. Impossible! Music is my lifeblood, and every era, every mood, every heartbreak and victory has its album.
Sometimes it’s AC/DC’s Back in Black (front to back, no skips). Other times it’s Led Zeppelin IV because Going to California is pure magic.
Then there’s The Cars’ Heartbeat City, or The Cure’s Disintegration when I’m in that moody place. Don’t forget The Doors’ debut, or the unapologetic punch of NWA’s Straight Outta Compton.
I can drift into Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon or Wish You Were Here, float with Bob Marley & the Wailers’ Exodus, or pogo along to The Ramones’ debut.
I’ll argue all day over which Bob Dylan is best—Highway 61 Revisited or Blood on the Tracks—but both live rent-free in my head. Then there’s Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On, the anthem-packed The Clash’s London Calling, or the raw honesty of Miranda Lambert’s The Weight of These Wings.
Of course, I still swoon for Prince & the Revolution’s Purple Rain, sing every word of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors, and blast Van Halen’s debut when I need to feel alive.
Sunshine days call for The Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds or the bubblegum brilliance of The Go-Go’s Beauty & the Beat. Blues runs deep with Muddy Waters’ Anthology, while swagger belongs to The Rolling Stones’ Some Girls.
I melt into Etta James’ At Last and can’t leave out The Police’s Synchronicity.
And don’t think I forgot the giants: The Beatles, Pearl Jam, Erykah Badu, and Michael Jackson—because how could anyone live without those?
Lastly, maybe Billy Idol isn’t on any TOPS list, but he’s always #1 to me! So my all-time favorite? Nope. I don’t have one. I have a whole wall of them. My life is a jukebox, and I’m not about to unplug it.
I was at the doctor’s office yesterday afternoon, minding my own business, when the receptionist looked up and said, “Hey, honey.” I smiled, took my seat, and not two minutes later the nurse walked me back and called me “baby.” Then my doctor—yes, my female doctor—breezed in with her usual grin and said, “Well hey there, girl,” and I shot back without missing a beat, “Hello Lovely.”
Now if you’re not from around here, you might think we were either in the middle of a family reunion, or somebody was fixing to ask me out for cocktails. But down here in the South? That’s just how we do.
Our Love Language? Sweet Tea & Pet Names
We Southerners don’t need to know you personally to lay a little sugar on you. Honey, baby, darlin’, sugar, sweet pea—it’s all just part of our vocabulary. Men and women alike sprinkle it into conversation like powdered sugar on a funnel cake. (Now, to be clear—men don’t usually call other men “baby.” That’s where even the South has boundaries.)
Is it flirting? Eh… maybe. But not the “hey baby, let’s go to Vegas” kind of flirting. It’s softer, sweeter—it’s about making somebody feel seen. It’s a spoonful of comfort stirred into the middle of an ordinary afternoon.
Why It Trips Folks Up
Here’s the rub: not everybody gets it. Non-Southerners, and even some of the younger generation, sometimes hear these words and immediately get offended. I get it—they’re not used to love being poured out in a casual conversation at the doctor’s office. My husband’s family is from Iowa, and bless ‘em, they just don’t talk like this. Up there, affection is assumed, not spoken. It’s straightforward, clean, crisp.
Down here? We don’t assume—you’re gonna know. We serve love like we serve cocktails: strong, sweet, and with a little garnish on the rim.
Sweet & Salty—Just Like Life
See, that’s what I love about being Southern. Our words carry a bit of simple syrup—you can taste the sweetness. But don’t forget, we like a salty rim too. Just like life itself: sweet when we want it to be, salty when we need it to be. That balance is what makes us who we are.
So next time somebody in the South calls you “baby” or “honey,” don’t stiffen up. Don’t assume it’s about your age, your looks, or anything else. Take it for what it is: an extra dose of Southern hospitality, spoken out loud.
Because around here, sugar, words are meant to taste as sweet as the tea we pour.
Here’s the thing about being a woman over 50: weight doesn’t behave the way it used to. I can remember a time when I could cut back on sweets for a week and—boom!—five pounds gone. These days? Not so much.
That’s why I went to see my own GP today. Before I sign up for any quick weight-loss plan, pill, or injection, I want to know why my body is holding onto this weight in the first place. Is it hormones? Thyroid? Insulin resistance? Stress? Something else entirely? I want to rule things out before I throw money, hope, and effort into something that’s not going to fix the root problem.
Because let’s be honest: all those so-called miracle fixes don’t address the actual cause. If you don’t know what’s happening in your body, you’re setting yourself up to eventually be right back where you started—or even heavier than when you began. I speak from experience, and I say this with love.
The Truth About Weight Struggles Over 50
When we hit that big milestone birthday and beyond, our bodies shift gears. And not always in ways we like. Weight gain and the inability to lose it can be tied to so many things:
Hormonal changes – Menopause brings lower estrogen and progesterone, and that alone can affect metabolism, fat storage, and cravings.
Thyroid issues – An underactive thyroid makes it near impossible to lose weight without medical treatment.
Insulin resistance – Blood sugar swings and pre-diabetes sneak up and slow everything down.
Medications – From antidepressants to steroids to blood pressure meds, many prescriptions list weight gain as a side effect.
Stress & cortisol – Chronic stress makes your body hang onto belly fat like it’s gold.
Sleep changes – Lack of sleep throws hunger and fullness hormones out of whack.
Muscle loss – We lose muscle mass naturally as we age, which slows metabolism.
Other health conditions – PCOS, MS, arthritis, and heart disease can all factor in.
See? It’s not just about “eating less and moving more.” That old advice oversimplifies the truth of what’s happening in a woman’s body at this stage of life.
Why I’m Doing This Differently
Yes, I might end up needing a boost to help me shed some weight. But before I even consider that, I want a clear picture of my health. I want the bloodwork, the answers, the understanding. Because my health is worth more than chasing the next shiny diet trend.
I’m not against weight-loss aids. I support anyone who chooses them for themselves. But my heart wants to remind you—be healthy in the process. Take the time to know what’s going on inside your body before you look for outside fixes.
A Final Word from Experience
I’ve been down this road before. The quick fixes, the crash diets, the promises that this shake or that injection was the answer. And you know what? None of them fixed the why. That’s why I say this as someone who’s been there: don’t come at me like I don’t know what I’m talking about.
If you’re working on losing weight, I’m cheering you on. I truly am. But I want you to succeed in a way that lasts, that builds health, and that makes you feel stronger—not defeated.
So go see your GP. Ask the hard questions. Get the real answers. Because sometimes, it’s not you—it’s your health. ❤️
XOXO, Jani
Journeys With Jani
This journey may not involve a passport or a suitcase, but it’s every bit as important as the ones that do. Journeys With Jani isn’t just about travel—it’s about life, health, family, and finding joy wherever we are. And sometimes, that means giving ourselves permission to slow down, seek answers, and take better care of the only body we’ve got.
He spoke what he believed and he stood firm. He knew the risks. He knew the consequences might come. And still—he didn’t flinch. That’s freedom of speech.
The Double-Edged Sword
But freedom isn’t one-sided. It cuts both ways. Everyone loves the idea of free speech until it stings a little, until it comes with fallout, until it costs something. That’s when folks suddenly want to rewrite the rules.
We see it every day: somebody makes a bold statement, and the internet goes wild. Suddenly there’s a call for boycotts, firings, cancellations. And then the same people who were clapping for “freedom of expression” are furious when their favorite face gets pushed off a platform or loses a contract.
“You have the right to say what you want. But you don’t get immunity from the ripple effect.”
Words Carry Weight
Let’s get this straight: you have the right to say what you want. But you don’t get immunity from the ripple effect. Maybe you lose a job. Maybe you lose respect. That’s still freedom of speech in action. Words come with weight.
The difference here? He didn’t just lose a paycheck. He paid with his life. And that should make all of us stop in our tracks.
Why I Respected Him
I loved him because he stood firm. He didn’t hide behind sugar-coated half-truths to make people comfortable. He believed in what he said, and he owned it. Agree or disagree, you had to respect that.
And here’s the kicker: we need more of that kind of backbone.
Not more hate. Not more finger-pointing. Not more gleeful celebrating of someone else’s downfall.
Think Before You Speak
We need people who think before they speak, and then stand tall when they do.
So before you hit “post” or open your mouth, ask yourself:
Am I ready to own this? Am I ready for the consequence that might follow?
He was. He always was.
He paid with his life. You? Maybe just your paycheck.
You can’t talk about the South without talking about its spirits—literally. Kentucky bourbon, Tennessee whiskey, and Carolina moonshine are more than drinks. They’re liquid history, poured into glasses, mason jars, and sometimes the gas tanks of souped-up cars. Each sip carries the story of farmers, rebels, outlaws, and storytellers who turned corn into comfort—and sometimes pure mischief.
Kentucky Bourbon: America’s Native Spirit
Kentucky’s rolling hills are more than pretty—they’re fertile ground for bourbon. Since Congress declared it America’s native spirit in 1964, bourbon has been a point of Southern pride. The secret? Those long summers and sharp winters, pulling whiskey in and out of charred oak barrels, turning clear liquor into amber gold with notes of caramel, vanilla, and smoke.
Travel the Bourbon Trail and you’ll find yourself in the heart of tradition—Maker’s Mark with its red wax seal, Woodford Reserve in horse country, and Jim Beam, where generations of distillers have kept the fire burning. Bourbon is patience bottled, a heritage passed down sip by sip.
Tennessee Whiskey: Smooth as a Sunday Song
Head a little south and you’ll find Tennessee whiskey. It isn’t just bourbon’s cousin—it’s got its own signature twist: the Lincoln County Process, where whiskey filters through charcoal made from sugar maple before it hits the barrel. That step gives Tennessee whiskey its trademark smoothness, making it sip as easy as a Sunday hymn.
Jack Daniel’s may be the headliner, but George Dickel and smaller distilleries across the state carry that same pride in every bottle. Tennessee whiskey hums with tradition—rich, mellow, and unapologetically Southern.
Carolina Moonshine: The Rebel Spirit
If bourbon is the gentleman of Southern spirits and whiskey the soulful balladeer, moonshine is the outlaw cousin who shows up uninvited but makes the party unforgettable. Born in Appalachian hollers and Carolina backwoods, shine was corn liquor cooked in hidden stills and smuggled in mason jars.
It was cheap, strong, and—most importantly—illegal. Folks didn’t just drink it; they depended on it to survive hard times. Moonshiners built secret stills deep in the woods, and runners loaded their cars with jars, tearing down winding backroads with engines tuned to outrun the law.
NASCAR, Outlaws & the Dixie Mafia
Those backroad runs weren’t just about survival—they lit the fuse for a whole new sport. The daredevil drivers who raced moonshine cars for a living started testing their skills on dirt tracks. From those outlaw races, NASCAR was born. To this day, the roar of engines on a Sunday afternoon echoes the rebel roots of moonshine country.
And where there’s rebellion, there are outlaws. The South has its own brand of organized crime, nicknamed the Dixie Mafia. Less polished than the crime families up North, these good ol’ boys ran everything from gambling to drugs to bootlegging. They weren’t just shadowy figures in the background—they were woven into the fabric of small towns across the Deep South. But that’s a story big enough for its own chapter later on.
More Than a Drink
Bourbon, whiskey, and moonshine aren’t just about what’s in the glass. They’re culture, survival, rebellion, and Southern pride bottled up. Bourbon whispers patience. Whiskey hums tradition. Moonshine tells tales of grit and outlaw fire. Together, they’re the South in liquid form.
Travel the Spirit Trails
Want to taste the South’s history yourself? Start in Kentucky and walk the Bourbon Trail. Roll into Tennessee and sip smooth whiskey in Lynchburg. Then head into the Smoky Mountains, where legal moonshine distilleries now pour mason jars of outlaw history for curious travelers.
Because down here, the South doesn’t just tell its stories—it pours them straight, no chaser.
Clients. Acquaintances. Friendships—both old and new. ✨
One of the greatest joys of being a travel advisor is that the people who walk through our doors or call our office rarely stay “just clients” for very long. Planning vacations together isn’t just about flights, hotels, and excursions—it’s about conversations, trust, and shared stories. When you work with someone year after year, you really get to know each other. You laugh together, dream together, and sometimes, you pray together. That’s the difference between being a good travel advisor and being the best.
Over the years, I’ve collected so many beautiful souls in my life. From places I’ve lived, jobs I’ve worked, my children’s schools and activities, my community, and of course, my travel business—each connection has added something rich and lasting to my journey.
Just last week, one of my clients—who I now consider my friend—was facing something devastating. She was broken-hearted and searching for hope. I promised her I would pray. And I did. I also reached out quietly to others who never even knew the details, only that it was huge, and I asked them to pray too.
This morning, I got the sweetest message from her: “Prayers have been answered.” 🙌
My heart was instantly overjoyed. I believe in bonds. I believe in prayer. I believe in wanting joy for others—even for those who may not wish me the same. Because isn’t that what we should be doing as humans? Lifting each other up, standing in the gap when someone can’t stand on their own, and hoping for blessings in each other’s lives.
That’s the beauty of this life we’re living. The connections. The prayers whispered on someone else’s behalf. The joy that bubbles up when you see another person’s breakthrough.
So, to all my friends, clients, and loved ones—may your week be blessed, may your joy be full, and may you always feel lifted by the power of prayer and the bonds we share. ❤️
In the South, food is never just food—it’s comfort, it’s family, it’s how we love on people. A casserole shows up on your doorstep when times are tough, Sunday dinner isn’t a suggestion but an expectation, and recipes are passed down on worn index cards with little notes like “don’t forget extra butter.” Every dish has a story, and every bite feels like a hug.
Southern Sundays
Around My Gramma’s Table
My Gramma’s chicken n’ dumplings made my heart sing. Pillowy dumplings floating in broth so rich you could feel it warming you from the inside out. And like any true coastal Carolina woman, she always had rice on the table—always. To this day, I can still see the steam rising from that bowl.
Now, I’ll tell you the truth—I hated the smell of collard greens cooking… until the very last stretch when they finally turned that corner and filled the house with a heavenly aroma. Funny how even the things we wrinkled our noses at as kids become the very smells that feel like home.
And her buttermilk pie? Lawd have mercy. The stuff of legends. Creamy, sweet, tangy perfection wrapped in a flaky crust. If love had a taste, that pie was it.
Chicken’ N Dumplins’Biscuits w/ GravyButtermilk Pie
Southern Staples That Stick With You
Every Southern family has their staples. Fried chicken that crunches when you bite into it, biscuits split open and smothered in gravy, shrimp and grits that taste like the coast itself. Down here, mac n’ cheese doesn’t come from a box—it’s baked till bubbly and golden. Gumbo and jambalaya are the stories of Louisiana, simmered with spice and history.
Hush puppies, fried catfish, pulled pork barbecue, red beans and rice… they’re not just dishes, they’re cultural landmarks. And don’t get me started on pimento cheese—it’s basically our love language spread on crackers.
Pimento CheeseGumboBarbecue!
Bread, Biscuits, and the Sweet Side
Cornbread and buttermilk biscuits are the unsung heroes of the South. They cradle our gravies, our honeys, our jams, and sometimes, our broken hearts.
And then come the desserts—sweet potato pie, pecan pie, banana pudding layered with vanilla wafers, and peach cobbler bubbling hot under a golden crust. Around here, dessert isn’t an afterthought. It’s a memory-maker.
Learning to Cook, Southern Style
Here’s the funny part—when I first got married, neither my ex-husband nor I had much in the way of culinary skills. But over the years, we honed them into true Southern specialties. My son Jake? He’s a master of meat. The man can take a tough, cheap cut and turn it into something that makes you want to weep… for more.
As for me, I kept Gramma’s tradition alive. Chicken n’ dumplings became my specialty, the kind of dish that makes people pause mid-bite and close their eyes. And while it isn’t Southern, my cheesecake has become something of a legend in its own right. It might not have roots below the Mason-Dixon, but it hugs you up just the same.
Dirty RiceFried Green TomatoesBlack-eyed Peas
Why Southern Food Feels Like a Hug
It’s not just the flavors—it’s the stories, the traditions, the people who serve them. It’s the way food bridges generations, fills porches with laughter, and makes even strangers feel like family. Southern food doesn’t just sit on a plate. It lingers in memory, wrapping you up long after the meal is done.
Taste Your Way Through the South
Want to truly know the South? Taste it. Take a road trip through barbecue country in the Carolinas, order shrimp and grits in Charleston, savor gumbo in New Orleans, and grab a hot, buttery biscuit in Georgia. Each bite is a story. Each meal is a memory waiting to be made.
Because here in the South, food doesn’t just feed you—it hugs you back.
If the walls could talk in the South, they’d have more to say than just “bless your heart.” They’d whisper of battles fought, families lost, and spirits who never left. History here doesn’t stay locked in books—it lingers in the air, in the bricks, in the shadows. And sometimes… in the dark.
The South wears its history like Spanish moss—draped, tangled, and impossible to ignore. Every corner has a story, and some of those stories come with a chill up your spine.
Savannah & Charleston: Ghostly Southern Sisters
You can’t talk haunted South without starting with Savannah, Georgia. By day, it’s a postcard of antebellum squares, fountains, and mossy oaks. By night, the whispers rise. Stroll through Bonaventure Cemetery and you’ll swear those marble angels are watching you. Take a ghost tour, and you’ll hear about restless soldiers, tragic children, and spirits who prefer to keep their front porch lights on.
Charleston, South Carolina, carries her hauntings in silence and charm. Old cemeteries, narrow cobblestone streets, and historic homes echo with the voices of the past. The Old City Jail is as bone-chilling as it gets—host to pirates, prisoners, and folks who refused to go quietly.
Battlefields that Still Echo
The South’s haunted history isn’t just tucked into houses—it sprawls across fields. Civil War battlefields like Gettysburg and Chickamauga are said to be alive with more than just tourists. Soldiers in gray and blue still march in the mist, cannons rumble when no cannons fire, and the weight of history sits heavy in the stillness.
Mansions, Inns & Spirits Who Never Checked Out
From Natchez, Mississippi, to New Orleans’ French Quarter, antebellum mansions and old hotels stand proud—and sometimes, occupied by more than paying guests. The Myrtles Plantation in Louisiana is infamous for its ghostly residents, with legends of poisoned pie and spectral children.
Even in Kentucky, where bourbon runs deep, there are distilleries rumored to have a few spirits other than the bottled kind.
Why We Love Haunted Stories
Maybe it’s the way Southerners hold on to history—good, bad, or bone-chilling. Maybe it’s because storytelling is in our blood, and what’s a story without a little fear and fascination? Whatever it is, haunted places remind us that history never really leaves us.
Travel the Haunted South
Reading about these places is one thing—but walking through them? Whole different ballgame. Take a ghost tour in Savannah, explore Charleston after dark, or road trip through Civil War sites. Sit on a porch in New Orleans at dusk and listen to the city hum with life… and maybe something else.
The haunted South is more than ghost stories—it’s living, breathing history that refuses to be forgotten.
👻 Up next in the series: Food That Hugs You Back (because what better way to chase a ghost story than with fried chicken and biscuits?).
If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know how much I love being a Travel Advisor with Take Time To Travel. This isn’t just a job—it’s my calling, my joy, and my way of connecting people with experiences they’ll treasure forever.
Why I Love This Work
There’s nothing like watching a vacation dream come to life. I get to take the puzzle pieces—flights, hotels, transfers, excursions, meals—and turn them into a masterpiece of memories for my clients. Whether it’s a honeymoon in Hawaii, a family cruise in the Caribbean, or a road trip through the Deep South, the process of planning is just plain fun for me. It lights me up.
And it’s not just about me. I love promoting Take Time To Travel because I know how much we all truly care. We’re not some giant, faceless corporate agency pumping out “deals on wheels.” Book through those big guys, and once you’ve hit submit? Game over, baby, game over. That’s not us. We stick with you from beginning to end—answering questions, adjusting plans, and celebrating right alongside you.
What I Expect From Myself
I hold myself to high standards in this industry. My goal is to gain as much knowledge as I can every single day—because travel is always changing. New hotels, new ships, new tours… I want to be on top of it all so that when you come to me with a dream, I can match you with the very best options. My expectation of myself is simple: be the best I can be for every single client.
My Travel Style
Now, here’s the thing. Most travel advisors pick one or two little niches and stick with them. And that’s fine! Sometimes I think it would be nice to only specialize in one thing. But the truth? People want to travel and do all sorts of things.
Yes, I’m a Hawaiian Islands Specialist—and I adore building those trips—but I plan just about every destination under the sun. You want an all-inclusive resort? Oh honey, fix me a margarita and let’s go! Dreaming of Disney or Universal? Let me grab my mouse ears and wand because your wish can come true. California dreamin’? Me too, every dang day—so let’s get busy!
What Life Looks Like in the Office
Our office stays pretty steady—planning trips, building itineraries, answering calls, and walking through every detail to make sure nothing is missed. It’s not just transactions—it’s relationships. Many clients have become dear friends, and that’s something I treasure most of all.
This last year, I didn’t travel as much as usual because I needed a bit of down time. But as the “BER” months roll around, I’m gearing up for 2026 in a big way! Travel is back, stronger than ever, and I’m excited to be right in the middle of it.
A Little Ask From Me
If you see me posting about everything under the sun and moon, give it a like, give it a share, and know that you’re helping support a small business that truly values you. Every click, every comment, every referral—it all matters. And I can’t say this enough: we appreciate each and every one of you.
Because at the end of the day, being a Travel Advisor isn’t just about booking trips. It’s about building connections, creating joy, and walking with you from start to finish. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
It’s here. The Saturday we circle on the calendar every year. The one that makes our blood pressure spike, our grills fire up, and our wardrobes suddenly revolve around crimson, red, orange, or whatever shade screams loyalty. Today is the day we’ve all been waiting for—SEC football is back, and there’s nothing like it in the South.
Now, let me go ahead and put my cards on the table. I’m a BAMA girl through and through. Roll Tide runs in my veins. But I’m also going to be real—when it comes to SEC football, I love the whole crazy, passionate, rowdy mess of it. Every single team brings its own flavor, and if you grew up in the South, you know this isn’t just football—it’s a lifestyle.
The Teams I Live For
Let’s just say it: BAMA and UGA have my heart. I’ll cheer ‘em on like I’ve got stock in the programs.
The Teams I Just Can’t With
Now Auburn? Gators? LSU? That’s going to be a hard pass from me, thank you very much. I don’t even try to hide it—it’s a diabolical twist of SEC rivalry that makes me despise those games in the most entertaining, petty way possible.
The Ones I’m Surprised By
And then there’s Vandy. Who knew? That quarterback has me hooked with his “I will do it” grit and that contagious energy. I’ve found myself cheering on Vandy in a way I never thought I would. (Don’t worry, my BAMA loyalty is still rock solid!)
The Rest of the Pack
Everybody else? I’ll clap, I’ll cheer, I’ll boo a little—because honestly, I’m here for all of it. That’s the beauty of the SEC.
A House Divided
Now here’s where it gets fun—my family is a house divided. My oldest is a die-hard FSU fan (Lord, bless him). My husband, middle son, and youngest? 100% UGA through and through. And one of my daughters-in-law? She’s a Vol—voluntarily! (Bless it, Lord, we pray for her daily.) We rib each other, we talk smack, but at the end of the day, it’s all in good fun.
But today? Oh, today is different. FSU and BAMA are going head-to-head, which means my son Jake and I are absolutely not friends until that final whistle blows. Lines are drawn, trash talk is flowing, and only one of us is walking away with bragging rights! And of course, that will be me! ROLL TIDE!
SEC = Southern Life
In the South, we don’t just watch football, we build life around the season. You do not get married on a game day. Birthday parties, baby showers, whatever it is—you’d better believe we’re still going to have our phones out, tuned into the game. That’s just how it is. And yes, we’ve got bandwagon fans, but you know what? Why wouldn’t they want to cheer on a great team? The more the merrier.
So today? Today we live, breathe, and bleed SEC football. Whether your team wins, loses, or just plain makes you holler at the TV—welcome to fall in the South, y’all. Let the games begin! #BearBryant # NickSaban #KalenDeBoer
Journeys With Jani 