A layover in Ft. Lauderdale
Matt and I returned last night from a weekend in the Conch Republic. It never fails to amaze me that I can be just four hours from home and feel like I'm in another country. The Southernmost city in the United States yes, but South Florida it's not. I'm such a history geek - poor Matt was looking forward to a leisurely weekend in Key West, but I get antsy when history is nearby. On Saturday I dragged him to Fort Zachary Taylor, The Hemingway House AND The Truman Little White House (quite a highlight!). We stayed in a B&B, ate conch fritters and key lime pie and walked Duval Street a dozen times.
Now, we're in the middle of a 36-hour layover at home before heading out again for Thanksgiving in Gainesville. Green bean casserole ingredients are packed and ready to go, but at least 3 loads of laundry remain. Chloe sits in front of me, playing "store" with her Thanksgiving books, while I try to figure out how to cut her wispy bangs without giving her a mullet. Suggestions?
Now, we're in the middle of a 36-hour layover at home before heading out again for Thanksgiving in Gainesville. Green bean casserole ingredients are packed and ready to go, but at least 3 loads of laundry remain. Chloe sits in front of me, playing "store" with her Thanksgiving books, while I try to figure out how to cut her wispy bangs without giving her a mullet. Suggestions?
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