Favorite forever.

One of those perfect Tennessee nights.

DISAPPEARING SOUTH. Link in bio. A table of men sit under a hanging wooden sign that reads “Grumpy Old Men.” It’s designated for them and them only. It is their sacred table. I feel a tinge of jealousy that I can’t be one of them and I catch myself from leaning too far in. Their stories are old-growth and worn with a familiar patina. There are no unknowns in the tall tales—it’s all family names and cousins. The gossip is recycled and recirculated in hushed tones until an eruption of laughter reminds you it’s the storyteller more than the story sometimes. #disappearingsouth #sarahsadlerwrites #thesouth #southernwomen #southernwriter #travelwriter

I have decided on my own terms. I will never be the same again. I will not return. I cannot. To whatever I was before. Whoever I was before. It was anemic and hollow. Too fast and concrete. Wood that was painted metal. I’m leaning in to this acoustic version of life right now; sweet, uncertain, suspended. What lesson will you take? Will you carry it for a while or pack it away?

Happier times in Ireland 🍀 With the best girls 🌈 Lower Shannon Valley, County Tipperary. Currently drinking Irish coffee with them now though… And honestly, the times are still pretty happy when you have community.