November in the North Georgia Mountains

Driving up to the North Georgia mountains, the sun set highlighting the majesty of the purple-red mountains. Landscape marred briefly by a number of signs that read “McCain not Hussein”, I recovered quickly by queuing up Public Enemy’s Fear of a Black Planet and let it run loud. I take pictures over the steering wheel as I drive.



Underneath a star-filled approaching-midnight sky (see OPI nail lacquer Russian Navy), I listened to the stories of the proud mother of two of the stout men that make up Bang Camaro. I can’t help but grin quietly while my hot tub-wet bangs curl on my forehead.



The lovely weekend rolls out, full of delicious food including Sandy's deftly discovered real whipped cream/crack-filled fresh-baked donuts, Georgia barbeque and collectively built homemade meals with gallons of wine. Note: as tempting as it was, we did not eat the Confederate Hotdogs.

All the while the backdrop was the beautiful mountain:



the brightest reds, oranges and yellows that define autumn:



and breathtaking sunsets, preludes to crystal clear glimpses of Orion



all framed and embraced by beautiful people I am so lucky to be welcomed by.