Both of us grew up near mountains, the same mountain range in fact -- but he was in western North Carolina, and I was in central Virginia. To this day, regardless of where we've been or where we're going, seeing blue-tinged mountains ease up over the horizon as we're climbing some highway hill always feels like coming home.
Tiny mountain town festivals, however, are something I did not experience until moving to North Carolina! The kettle corn, fried pie, and shaved ice all smelled delicious. But we were on a particular mission: to pick up farm fresh sunflowers for his mama. So we resisted the vendors' wares.
Not that that was much of a hardship. The rest of the weekend consisted of grilling out, family time, reading and relaxing on the porch swing, fresh strawberry dip and a mint chocolate chip ice cream birthday cake....
Goodbye, mountains, until we meet again.