Fun in the South.

Went to the show at the coffeehouse last night. This girl and this guy played together and they were absolutely great. So enjoyable. I ended up going by myself. The 'rents & grandpa stayed home, Kev & Keith dropped me off and went to do active-competitive-man things. I just sat in an arm chair, sipped my cinnamon spice tea and soaked it up. Perfect.

Tonight we all went to see the Rockets in the Radio City Christmas Spectacular at the Opry. I had never seen these famous kick-line tap dancers, and didn't quite know what to expect. But it was good. It exceeded my expectations. Lots of dancing, which I really love to watch. I love dancing. Wish I did it more.

This morning Keith and I went to the local Waffle House for breakfast. We love Waffle Houses. They are a vacation treat for both of us. There's something so charming, even magical about them; so dirty and artery-clogging and so friendly and comforting. Those classic yellow squares with black letters that haven't changed. The tiny interiors: booth or counter? A hard decision. The grits. Where do I eat grits Up North? I don't. The 50-something waitresses with raspy voices and too much makeup who always call you "hon". "More coffee, hon?" Eggs cooked just right. Pecan Waffles.

It almost makes me love America.