You Come from Georgia Where the Peaches Grow

They drink lemonade, and speak real slow....

We just returned from a week in Georgia. It was perfection. While we did spend a day at the pool, Tessa and cute cousin Carson were a little impatient. Nothing a few buckets and measuring cups couldn't quickly resolve.

We did the Georgia Aquarium. That place really rocks my socks every time we go.

We splashed in the Fountains at Piedmont Park.

We took a joyride to Stone Mountain.

And watched the Laser Show and fireworks.

We spent Sunday night playing pyros.

I come from good stock.

We celebrated America's birthday.

We became obese at Fogo de Chao

(Sidenote: Ten years ago, to the day, the four of us spent the evening at this very same Fogo de Chao stuffing ourselves. This would be the trip where Allen first met my parents, asked daddy if he could marry his little girl, and got down on one knee and made all my dreams come true. It was a fairly busy excursion.)

We ate. A lot. This particular evening off the grill, in celebration of Independence.

We swam, we shot guns, we played endless amounts of Taboo, we ate ice cream, we had spiritual discussions.

We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and the people we were with.

We will not be waiting two more years for a repeat.