• Southern Stories Part 3: From Barrels to Backroads- Bourbon, Whiskey & Moonshine in the South!

    September 17, 2025
    Southern Stories, Travel Advice

    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.

    XOXO, Jani


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  • Bonds, Blessings, and the Power of Prayer: Let’s Talk About It…

    September 15, 2025
    Eat, Pray, Love

    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. ❤️

    XOXO, Jani

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  • September 11th: The Day the World Stopped Turning

    September 11, 2025
    Uncategorized

    This post is not nearly as fluid as I would normally put out…but I didn’t sleep much and this is the result of a midnight scrawl…

    On the morning of September 11th, 2001, I was in Atlanta with my friend Kathy Gwin, picking up food for our church pantry. We were loading up a big van at the food bank like we’d done a dozen times before. At first, it was business as usual—busy, buzzing, shelves stocked full.

    But as we moved through, things got quiet.

    People were leaving early. The flatbeds weren’t being refilled. It felt off. Someone casually mentioned a bomb. It didn’t register—we were in the middle of a task, listening to gospel music, and had no phones on us.

    On the way back home, we noticed the strangest thing:

    Atlanta traffic was gone.

    On a weekday. That just doesn’t happen.

    When we pulled into the church lot, our husbands were waiting—visibly shaken. They tried to explain: two planes, New York, the towers, an attack. We didn’t understand the scope, not yet. We finished unloading food, went home, turned on the news—and the truth hit like a brick.

    The world had changed.

    That afternoon, the county called to cancel all kids’ sports. My boys were 5 and 7. They were frustrated about the game being canceled. I didn’t tell them why, not at first.

    Later that night, we sat them down and showed them what had happened.

    My 5-year old pointed to the screen and said, “I want to protect people when I grow up.”

    And he did. He served as a U.S. Marine for eight years.

    Years later, I walked through the 9/11 Memorial in New York City. Nothing prepares you for it. That silence. That weight. The heartbreak etched in steel and stone. But what struck me most was how, in that moment of devastation, we came together.

    We waved flags. We prayed in parking lots. We called people we hadn’t spoken to in years. We remembered we were all Americans.

    But now?

    Now we are a nation on fire with rage.

    We don’t just disagree—we dehumanize.

    We don’t argue—we aim to destroy.

    And with the recent assassination of Charlie Kirk, a man I admired for his calm clarity and steady voice, I can’t stay quiet.

    It’s not just one man. And it’s not just now.

    We’ve lost far too many to hate-fueled violence:

    John F. Kennedy, gunned down in Dallas.

    Robert F. Kennedy, killed right after speaking of unity.

    Martin Luther King Jr., murdered while preaching peace.

    Abraham Lincoln, assassinated for fighting to keep the nation whole. Malcolm X, shot for standing strong in his beliefs.

    James Garfield, assassinated in a train station.

    William McKinley, killed at a public meet-and-greet.

    And we’ve seen it continue:

    The Oklahoma City bombing, 168 lives taken out of sheer hate.

    Pulse nightclub, 49 dead for how they loved.

    Charleston church massacre, 9 lives taken during Bible study.

    Tree of Life synagogue, 11 murdered while worshipping.

    Buffalo supermarket, targeted for race.

    El Paso Walmart, 23 killed—again, racially targeted.

    Gabby Giffords, shot in the head while meeting constituents.

    Steve Scalise, nearly killed at a congressional baseball game.

    Uvalde, Parkland, Sandy Hook… Our children. Our schools.

    It’s all the same thread: hatred given a weapon.

    We used to mourn as one. Now we cheer for violence when it fits our narrative.

    We used to honor differences. Now we cancel them.

    We scream about freedom of speech—yet crucify people for using it.

    What are we doing?

    We can’t go on like this and expect to survive as a nation.

    Not morally. Not spiritually. Not humanly.

    9/11 brought us to our knees—but also brought us together.

    And now, we’re tearing ourselves apart from the inside out.

    Maybe it starts with choosing love.

    Maybe it starts with remembering who we were that week in September.

    Because if we don’t, we are going to lose more than buildings.

    We’re going to lose each other.

    XOXO, Jani

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  • A World Without Charlie Kirk: Heartbreak, Hypocrisy, and the Loss of Respect

    September 10, 2025
    Uncategorized

    “You can disagree with someone’s politics. You can debate, argue, walk away.

    But to celebrate their pain? That’s not love. That’s hypocrisy.”

    -Ivyonna Corrine


    A Rare Voice of Respect

    Today, I am angry. I am sad. And most of all, I am heartbroken.

    I’ve spent countless hours watching Charlie Kirk stand his ground in debates. He wasn’t the loudest in the room. He wasn’t the one slinging insults or rolling his eyes when someone disagreed.

    No—Charlie Kirk was calm, steady, and razor sharp.

    He had this way of dismantling arguments without ever demeaning the person making them.

    Always respectful. Always composed. Always on point.

    That mattered to me. Because in a world where shouting matches pass for dialogue and hostility masquerades as passion, Charlie’s evenness was rare. It was needed. And now, it’s gone.

    A Man, Not Just a Public Figure

    This wasn’t just “a conservative speaker.” This was a man.

    A husband. A father. A friend. A son.

    Someone whose family is grieving tonight in a way most of us can’t begin to comprehend.

    It’s easy for people on screens to forget that public figures are flesh and blood, with people at home who love them. Behind every headline is a family shattered, children who will never again feel their father’s arms, a wife who will never again hear her husband’s laugh.

    And yet—unbelievably, disgustingly—some are celebrating. Laughing. Cheering. Smirking at the death of a man they disagreed with.

    Hypocrisy at Its Loudest

    Do you see the problem?

    These are the same voices who hashtag “love everyone.” The same ones who light up their profiles with “end world violence.” The same ones who preach “tolerance” as if it were the highest virtue.

    But tolerance, it seems, only applies if you agree with them.

    Peace only matters until someone speaks a truth they don’t like.

    Love becomes a slogan, not a boundary—easy to shout until it’s tested in real life.

    You can disagree with someone’s politics. You can debate, argue, walk away.

    But to celebrate their pain? To clap at violence?

    That’s not love.

    That’s hypocrisy.

    Why This Matters So Much

    Charlie Kirk believed in conversation. He believed in hashing things out, standing firm, and respecting others—even when the divide was wide.

    And now, because someone thought violence was an acceptable answer, the world has lost a voice for dialogue.

    Worse, the world has revealed its ugly underbelly: that far too many people don’t actually believe in the love and peace they post about daily.

    This isn’t about politics anymore. This is about humanity.

    And humanity is failing when we clap for the death of those we disagree with.

    My Heartbreak

    I can’t stop thinking about his wife tonight. His kids.

    How they’ll never get another ordinary day with him. The way a dinner chair will sit empty. The birthdays he’ll miss. The graduations. The weddings.

    It’s easy to dehumanize someone from a distance.

    But this man’s family will live with this loss forever.

    My heart is shattered for them. And it’s shattered for all of us—because if we keep pretending this is okay, if we allow ourselves to cheer for hate, then the world isn’t nearly as full of love and peace as people want to believe.

    A Call to Be Better

    If you claim to want peace—prove it when it’s hard.

    If you say you stand for love—show it when someone you oppose is in pain.

    If you shout “tolerance”—practice it in the moments it costs you the most.

    Charlie Kirk deserved better. His family deserves better.

    And we, as a society, must be better.

    Because right now? This is heartbreaking. And it has to change.

    To His Family

    To Charlie’s wife, his children, and every person who loved him—please know that many of us are grieving with you tonight.

    We may not share your last name or sit at your dinner table, but we feel the weight of this loss deeply.

    Charlie’s life and his voice mattered. His calm strength, his even tone, his commitment to respectful dialogue—it impacted more people than you’ll ever know. He showed us what it meant to stand firm without being cruel, to debate without demeaning, to love truth while respecting people.

    That legacy doesn’t end here.

    May you find comfort in the knowledge that your husband, your father, your friend, left a mark of courage, clarity, and kindness in a world desperate for all three.

    Our prayers are with you. Our hearts break for you. And we will remember him with respect.

    Much Love, Journeys With Jani

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  • Southern Stories Part 2: Food That Hugs You Back!

    September 10, 2025
    Eat, Pray, Love, Let’s Cook!, Southern Stories

    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/ Gravy
    Buttermilk 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 Cheese
    Gumbo
    Barbecue!

    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 Rice
    Fried Green Tomatoes
    Black-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.


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  • Southern Stories Part 1: Grit, Grace & Ghosts

    September 3, 2025
    Southern Stories

    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?).

    XOXO, Jani


    Jani Aylsworth-Gunter, Travel Specialist
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  • Why I Love Being a Travel Advisor

    September 1, 2025
    Eat, Pray, Love, Travel Advice

    Journeys With Jani – Let’s Talk About It…

    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.

    XOXO, Jani ✈️


    Cindy – Jani – Tammy – Trisha – Krystal
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  • SEC Football in the South: Today is the Day, Y’all!

    August 30, 2025
    Eat, Pray, Love, Southern Stories

    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

    And as for me… ROLL TIDE! 🐘❤️

    XOXO, Jani

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  • Southern Stories: A Taste of It All

    August 27, 2025
    Southern Stories
    This is a pretty accurate map of what IS & what is NOT the South!

    Let’s Talk About It…

    There’s just something about the South. You feel it the minute you cross that invisible Mason-Dixon line—the air feels heavier, sweeter, maybe even a little spookier depending on where you land. From big cities with sky-high histories to the tiniest little hollers where family names are known by heart, the South is a quilt stitched together with stories, flavors, and traditions you can’t find anywhere else.

    Over the next few weeks, I’m going to dive deep into the threads that make up this quilt—one story, one flavor, one character at a time. But first, let’s set the table with a little taste of it all.

    Haunted and Historic…

    Every town’s got a ghost story, but in the South? We practically serve them with sweet tea. From battlefields where echoes of war never quiet to antebellum mansions draped in Spanish moss and whispers, the haunted history here is bone-deep. The South remembers—and sometimes those memories walk right beside us.

    Bourbon, Whiskey, and Moonshine…

    You can’t talk about the South without mentioning its spirits—literally. Kentucky bourbon, Tennessee whiskey, Carolina moonshine—it’s liquid history in a glass. Every sip carries a legacy of farmers, rebels, and storytellers who turned corn into comfort (and sometimes mischief).

    And of course, those backroad bootleggers didn’t just make shine—they raced it. That’s how NASCAR was born, tires squealing on dirt tracks as drivers tested how fast they could outrun the law. And speaking of outlaws, the South has its own brand of organized crime—ever heard of the Dixie Mafia? Let’s just say, that’s a story for another day (and another blog).

    Food that Hugs You Back…

    Fried chicken so crisp it crackles, biscuits layered like little butter-flavored miracles, gumbo that tastes like a Sunday sermon, and BBQ so smoky you smell it before you see the pit—Southern food isn’t just a meal. It’s a love language. Around here, recipes are heirlooms, passed down with a wink and “a little bit of this, sugar.”

    The People and the Talk…

    Let’s be honest—the South could write a dictionary all its own. Our accents roll like rivers, our sayings twist like vines, and our humor is sharp but tender. Southern people are equal parts grit and grace. We’ll offer you a plate, a story, and a warning not to test our patience—all in the same breath.

    Big City to Holler Living…

    Atlanta and Nashville shine with big-city energy, skyscrapers, and traffic that’ll test your religion. But drive a couple hours, and you’ll find yourself in a holler where the only traffic jam is a tractor on the road and where everybody knows who your people are. That contrast—that blend—is what makes the South feel so alive.

    Traveling the South…

    Here’s the thing—reading about the South is one thing. Traveling through it? That’s where the magic really happens. Why not get out there on a few road trips and immerse yourself in it all? Drive the backroads, eat at the mom-and-pop diners, walk through those old cemeteries at dusk, sip whiskey where it was born, and let the South wrap you up in its grit and grace.

    This is just the welcome mat, y’all. In the coming weeks, I’ll pull apart each of these threads and spin the stories deeper: a blog on our haunted history, one on Southern food, another on moonshine and bourbon (with a little NASCAR and Dixie Mafia sprinkled in), another on the quirks of our language, and more.

    The South isn’t just a place—it’s a way of living, a flavor, a sound, a story. And I can’t wait to take you along for the ride.

    XOXO, Jani


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  • The TV Shows That Shaped My Childhood – Let’s Talk About It…

    August 26, 2025
    Kids, The Sitcom Called “Mary Jane”

    Growing up, television wasn’t anything like it is today. We didn’t have hundreds of channels, endless streaming options, or binge-watch weekends. Nope. We had three networks plus PBS, possibly some fuzzy channel might come through and that was it. If you wanted to watch something, you planned your life around it.

    There were no remotes in our house—you got up, walked over, and turned the dial (and if you were the youngest, that was your “job”). Thankfully I had a little sister! Cartoons weren’t on 24/7. They came on only on Saturday mornings, which made them feel like pure magic. And every so often, ABC would air an After School Special, supposedly to teach us something valuable about life. Oh, and don’t even think about watching TV at dinnertime. In my house, dinner was eaten at the table, together, with conversation. Looking back, that rhythm of life feels like such a good time, simple and connected in ways we often miss now.

    FANCY! TV and Stereo Combined!

    Weekly Traditions

    My TV schedule was practically set in stone. Monday nights meant Little House on the Prairie, where I dreamed about running through the fields with Laura Ingalls. Sunday nights were The Wonderful World of Disney, which was so important to me that my Gramma actually bought another TV—so I could watch Disney while Grandpa kept to his ritual of 60 Minutes.

    During the week, my stepmother always had the soap operas going—Days of Our Lives and Another World. And like most kids of my generation, I spent plenty of time with Eight is Enough, The Brady Bunch, and The Partridge Family.

    Childhood Classics

    Of course, I grew up right alongside Sesame Street, Romper Room, and later, The Electric Company—all the shows that felt fun but secretly snuck in lessons. And those Schoolhouse Rock snippets? They’re the reason I still sing the Preamble to the Constitution and know exactly how a bill becomes a law.

    Saturday Morning Gold

    But if I’m being honest, the crown jewel of childhood TV was Saturday morning cartoons. Scooby-Doo, Josie & the Pussycats, Captain Caveman, Marvel superheroes, Great Grape Ape, Jabberjaw—one after the other, all morning long. Pajamas, cereal, and the TV humming in the background—it’s still one of my favorite memories of childhood.

    Looking Back

    Those shows weren’t just entertainment; they were part of the rhythm of life. A simpler time when families talked over dinner instead of scrolling through phones, when cartoons were a once-a-week treasure, and when Disney on a Sunday night felt like the biggest event in the world.

    And maybe that’s why those memories hold so much weight for me now. It wasn’t just about the TV—it was about the connection, the routine, and the joy of being a kid in a world where life moved a little slower.

    XOXO, Jani

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Journeys With Jani

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