Shelley McKay is my world, with eyes of green and brown, brown tresses

My sweet daughter, once a little blonde Viking Princess, now a big girl, has consented to travel with me to Harris County in the morning to attend the hearing and then go to lunch with her daddy. This is the little trip that I have been looking forward to ever since the weather got nice and barbecue was on my mind and Kate was in Central Europe trying to inhale as much pilsner as possible in order to be able to take the glass bottles to the recycler so she could afford fish and chips on Friday. I know that is the only reason why she would drink so much beer. She takes after her grandfather who drinks martinis for the olives. Hah!

Anyway, tomorrow we will travel to Hamilton, Georgia, attend the hearing and probably drive down to Columbus afterward, look around a bit, and then park ourselves in a booth at Country's Barbecue for the ultimate of good barbecue, vegetables and sweet tea. This is truly what makes Georgia great (other than its people, like Shelley).

I think we will have to pledge that, since Rebecca and Katie Scott are not Godless Yankees from odd places like Wisconsin, Washington, Oregon or parts of Florida in which there are no true Southerners, but, in fact, true Georgia peaches, that Kate and I will have to show them the error of their parent's ways and introduce them to the good vegetables of the South and sweet tea. I don't think there is anyone else who will take that obligation other than the two of us.

I think we call our group "Heirloom Tomatoes and Cornbread Kings."

This blog was written for my daughter to assuage her attitude created by the fact that I didn't blog all over myself about her when she finally came home. I feel no guilt, but this one's for you kid.