The great trek to Atlanta began Friday morning with frantic packing, frantic dogs, and general frantic-ness all around. After kisses and hugs to the pups (yes, because I am slightly pathetic like that), we were ready to get on the road.
And by "get on the road," I basically mean "put the pedal to the metal."
The speed limit was 95 on this particular stretch of road, of course.
Much fabulous knitting time commenced.
Someone may have donned a pair of fabulous 80s sunglasses...
Thus, we drove. I knitted, we talked, we ate french fries and slurped soda and Steven took 497 phone calls for work (his car was basically a second office that day).
And suddenly, there in the distance.... we spotted something magical. Shining out like a beacon of freedom to us all, beckoning us with its siren song.
What is this apparition, you ask? What is this obelisk before us?
It is none other than The Mighty, The Powerful...
The Great Butt In The Sky.
Hello. I am actually a peach, but who's counting?
We made it all the way down to Georgia and went straight to the Huff house (mostly since we heard they had Bacon! For Us! To Eat!)
And lo, they did. And lo, it was good. It obtained the Steele Seal of Approval.
After hanging with the 'rents and my "little brother," who is now somewhere around 6'5".... we headed back to the hotel and crashed. Up next in Part Two: A Saturday With The Babe.
(What's that? You've been waiting all weekend for baby pictures? Oh, alright, fine. But just a sneak peek, 'cause I'm saving the really great ones for tomorrow!)
And now I'm off to sleep like a baby. More tomorrow!