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  • It Isn’t Just About Rolling Up Your Sleeves…

    September 28, 2025
    Eat, Pray, Love, Travel Advice

    In what ways does hard work make you feel fulfilled?

    Hard work isn’t just about rolling up your sleeves and getting it done—it’s about pouring a piece of yourself into something that matters. I’ll be honest, some days it feels like my brain is doing cartwheels and my heart is hanging on for dear life. This past week I’ve been a little quieter because, well, work has been non-stop.

    We’re planning a big adventure for April 2026—an 8-night Australia Wine Cruise aboard the Celebrity Edge, followed by a 10-night New Zealand land tour. And here’s the kicker: it’s not just a handful of travelers. This is a large group. Think dozens of flights, cabins, hotel rooms, transfers, excursions… all moving parts that need to click perfectly into place. It’s the kind of planning puzzle that can make even the most seasoned advisor want to hide under the desk with a cup of coffee and a prayer.

    And here’s the part most people don’t see—this kind of project doesn’t pause our day-to-day. While we’re building this massive group journey, we’re still planning sunny Caribbean getaways, family vacations, Disney getaways, Hawaii escapes, and anniversary trips for our regular clients. The juggling act is real.

    And yet, I wouldn’t trade it.

    Because here’s the part that fills me up: I know the end result. I know that all the late nights, the checklists, the back-and-forths will lead to that moment when my clients are sitting on a balcony with a glass of Australian Shiraz, or standing in awe of New Zealand’s mountains, living a once-in-a-lifetime trip that started as just an idea in Tammy’s notebook.

    That’s the reward. That’s the fulfillment.

    Hard work feels worthwhile because it gives me purpose. It shows me what I’m capable of and it creates experiences for others that they’ll carry for the rest of their lives. It’s not always easy—but it’s always worth it. And at the end of the day, that’s why I love what I do.

    If you’ve got a dream trip of your own—big or small—I’d love to help make it happen. After all, the hard work is on me, but the joy? That part is all yours.

    XOXO, Jani


    Downtown Cartersville Georgia!
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  • The Language of the South: People, Accents & Culture – Southern Stories Series Pt. 4

    September 24, 2025
    Southern Stories

    The South doesn’t just have a look or a taste—it has a sound. Step onto a front porch, into a diner, or through a small-town church door, and you’ll hear it immediately. Voices thick with drawls, sayings that make outsiders scratch their heads, and storytelling so vivid you’d swear you lived it yourself. Words, accents, and culture—they’re the heartbeat of the South.

    Sayings with Sass & Sweetness

    The South is famous for its phrases—equal parts poetry, wit, and side-eye. “Bless your heart” can mean genuine kindness… or something much sharper depending on the tone. “Fixin’ to” doesn’t mean fixing anything, it means you’re about to. “Over yonder” could be a mile away—or just around the corner.

    We don’t just talk—we color our words. Language in the South is its own love language, one part sass, one part charm, and a whole lot of personality.

    Accents Like Honey

    Drive an hour in any direction and you’ll hear a new accent. The coastal Carolinas bring a lilting drawl, slow and sweet. Up in the Appalachians, the twang is sharper, bouncing like a fiddle tune. Down in Louisiana, English weaves with Cajun French into a rhythm that’s as spicy as gumbo.

    Our accents aren’t just about sound—they’re about identity. They tell you where someone’s from, how they were raised, and often, what kind of story they’re about to tell.

    Humor, Sass & Storytelling

    Southerners have a way of talking that can cut you down and lift you up in the same breath. It’s humor that hides in understatement, sass that’s softened with a smile. We’ll tease you to your face, hug your neck right after, and invite you in for supper before you can catch your breath.

    And storytelling? That’s our lifeblood. On porches, around dinner tables, at church socials—we pass down history, memories, and tall tales with words that grow bigger and funnier every time they’re told. Stories aren’t just told in the South, they’re lived out loud.

    Culture in Every Word

    Language and culture here are braided together. From the way we call everyone sugar, honey, or darlin’ to the jokes we tell at funerals and the prayers whispered at tailgates—our words carry our values. Hospitality. Resilience. Faith. Humor. Grit wrapped in grace.

    It’s more than talk—it’s a way of life.

    Travel Through the Talk

    Want to experience the South? Listen to it. Order sweet tea at a diner in Georgia and let the waitress call you “hon.” Sit at a festival in Kentucky and let the bluegrass twang wash over you. Stroll Bourbon Street and let Creole rhythms roll through your ears. The South doesn’t just welcome you—it talks you into feeling at home.

    Because here, accents are thick as honey, words are sweet as tea, and culture is carried in every single sentence.

    ✨ Next up in the series: Big City to Holler Living (From Skyscrapers to Backroads).


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  • A Memory in Crayons… (Originally written July 30, 2016)

    September 21, 2025
    Eat, Pray, Love, Kids
    Little Jani

    I have very few loving memories of my mother. I love her, but she has never been able to love me in the same way I love my children. That truth has softened with age, but it’s still there.

    My friend Daryl shared a childhood memory on Facebook and challenged the rest of us to reach back into those early years. When I thought about it, the most precious memory I could pull forward was simple — maybe even ordinary — but it has stayed with me all these years: coloring with my mom.

    Me at the Main Street House

    We lived in an old antebellum home at the end of Main Street in Adairsville, Georgia. The front door had a beautiful stained-glass oval window that scattered the sunlight into little jeweled beams. I don’t remember much about that house anymore — it’s been updated by different owners over the years and I believe it’s a rental now — but this one memory remains vivid.

    It feels like a faded Polaroid in my mind. No sound, no movement, no sense of temperature or background noise. I’m certain music was playing (my mother always had music playing, and I get that from her), but in my mind’s eye it’s quiet. The sun was setting, and the light spilled through that stained glass, filling the foyer with warm, shifting color.

    We were lying together on the polished hardwood floor with a fresh box of Crayola crayons and a stack of new coloring books. Just the two of us. No distractions. The light fell across our pages, painting our simple artwork with a brilliance I can still feel. In that fleeting moment, I was completely, unquestionably happy.

    Me Again

    That’s it. That’s the memory. Simple. Ordinary. Precious.

    To this day, nothing thrills me quite like opening a brand-new box of Crayola crayons and flipping through the crisp pages of a clean coloring book. It takes me right back to that sacred little sliver of time when my mom and I were simply together.


    Update for Today

    Looking back now, almost a decade after I first wrote this, I can’t help but think about what it means to know you are loved. Not hope. Not guess. Not wonder. But to know.

    Parents, please make sure your children know without a doubt that they are loved — not just when they’re little, but as they grow into adults. That knowledge carries them through the hardest seasons of life.

    I say this because I have far more precious memories with my daddy than with my mom… and he was in prison for 28 years. Think about that. Even behind bars, his love reached me more clearly than hers ever did.

    So if you take anything from this memory of crayons and sunlight, let it be this: love loudly, love often, and make sure your children never have to question it.

    XOXO, Jani


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  • The Nightly Tornado Duet: Our Snoring Saga

    September 20, 2025
    The Sitcom Called “Mary Jane”

    Every single night, without fail, I snore like a tornado barreling down on a tin shed. 🌪️ But before anyone points fingers, let me say this: Greg snores too. The only difference? He doesn’t hear himself. (Convenient, huh?)

    Now, I’ve already done the sleep study—no sleep apnea here. The verdict? Just an overbite and a little extra fluff fueling my nightly freight train performance. I don’t wake myself up, but Bean or my travel partners ? They get front row seating. Trouble is, people snore but they never hear themselves! It can be a full-on symphony. 🎶

    So, what’s a girl to do? My GP suggested step one: try an anti-snoring device. Enter this clear little contraption that promises “peaceful slumber.” Tonight, I’ll give it a whirl and record myself. If it works, hallelujah. If not, on to the next gadget.

    Stay tuned. The “Snore Chronicles” might just turn into a greatest hits album. 🤪

    XOXO, Jani

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  • This Prompt Was So Unfair…

    September 20, 2025
    Eat, Pray, Love

    What’s your all-time favorite album?

    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.

    XOXO, Jani

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  • Sugar, Honey, Baby, Girl… Let’s Talk About How We Talk in the South

    September 19, 2025
    The Sitcom Called “Mary Jane”

    Journeys With Jani – Let’s Talk About 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.

    Have a great day Muffin!

    XOXO, Jani

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  • Why I Went to My GP Before Jumping on the Weight-Loss Bandwagon… Let’s Talk About It

    September 18, 2025
    The Sitcom Called “Mary Jane”

    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.

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  • Freedom of Speech Cuts Both Ways

    September 18, 2025
    Eat, Pray, Love

    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.

    Charlie Kirk.

    XOXO, Jani

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  • 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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Journeys With Jani

Real Life. Real Travel. Real Talk.

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