In early July, JOLAS (short for Jenna, Olivia, Lexi, Ana, and Sara) took Ogunquit, Wells, Arundel, Kennebunk and Kennebunkport, Maine by storm. Jumping into our charming black Dodge Charger at the Boston airport, four lovely ladies drove fiercely to meet up with our fifth counterpart during her summer musical stint up north. Within minutes we were eating fried calamari out of brown paper bags overlooking the rocky cliffs; within a few hours we had already found margaritas with chips and salsa to compliment the first of many happy hours. (I know, I left Texas to go all the way to Maine to have a margarita, but trust me, I played the role of "TexMex police," and rest assured, they did us justice).
Things I don't want to forget (for when we go back in ten years or when I force my mother and sisters to relive this trip with me):
-The Ramp Restaurant in Cape Porpoise where I had the most delicious chorizo/mussel/broth/crusty French bread concoction in a large bowl. Needless to say, there were no leftovers.
-Nuble Lighthouse
-going to the beach (there were so many different ones tucked away) and each time attempting to stick my toes in the water....only to discover I am capable of creating a VERY high-pitched shrill. That water is CHILLY!
-Award-Winning lobster rolls here (get it with mayonnaise AND butter - it's better!)
-walking the Marginal Way at sunset
I'm sure there's more. In fact, I know that there have to be about 3,000 more hidden gems in these amazing places. I kid you not, at every turn we were ooh-ing and ahh-ing at how cute everything was.
And while I have to jot everything down so I can remember each action-packed moment of the vacation, I would have been so happy going all the way to Maine (or really anywhere else for that matter) and paying for a beach condo to do absolutely nothing with these amazing women. Because some of my favorite memories weren't in a great shop or over a plate of chef-inspired cuisine:
Driving to the local supermarket to whip up an incredibly seafood-filled dinner to eat off of the plates in our cottage,
driving around looking at houses we would one day buy if we hit it rich so that we can invite the other four gals to come visit for months on end,
writing our names in the sand with sticks,
giggling about inside jokes from our a cappella days in college over and over again with coronas in our hands,
spending quality time in the car,
or soaking up those last few minutes in the same place while waiting for a flight at the airport with my gal O on her birthday...
Well worth the trek.
Every summer.
Every time.
Life isn't just better with Sandy Toes. Life is a heck-of-a-lot better with JOLAS.


















that beach towel sure looks familiar!
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