A little travel. A little romance. A lot of home.

I love vacations. 

Dreaming about where to go, planning the trip, visiting a new area, trying out new foods~

"Ahem." Dear hubby clears his throat.

I hit the delete key a few times.

OK. I'm a "home" kinda gal.

I love coming home more than the actual vacation itself. 

This week we visited Atlanta and stayed at the Westin Peachtree.

Had a great view from the 24th floor ~ all that steel and glass on the building next to us. Certainly not the Carolina blue sky view from our deck.

The hotel boasted a Starbucks cafe, but it wasn't nearly as blissful as waking up to my hubby's perfect brew of cafe con leche.

And what is it with down pillows? Does anybody actually like them? 

Definitely not as comfy as our fluffy pillows, and they didn't tuck a Dove dark chocolate heart on my hubby's pillow.

We ate at a great Irish Pub. To make up for the long wait, the waiter gave us a bag of homemade salt & vinegar chips. 

Did I say it was a long wait? Great chips, but I woke up the next morning, bloated and swollen, three times my size. Kinda like this poor guy.

But you know what the hardest part of this trip was?

Leaving our baby behind.

Do you see why I'm a home kinda gal?

Next year's agenda? 

Denver.

Now that's a place I could get excited about.

Hubby rolls his eyes.

I grin. OK.

I get more excited about coming home.


What about you?