Ah, the South

....with it's unrelenting heat, indexes in the 3 digits, and a pregnancy in it's last trimester.

This combination has brought me nothing but grief this summer, but today, I am reminded again of why I love living in the South. I went to early vote and arrived about 20 minutes after the polls opened. The parking lot was bereft of any shade and as I approached the door, I saw a rather large line forming. This line was just past the sign that said "Why wait, Early vote" HA!

I assumed my place in the back of the line with two year old in tow. I was feeling hot, huge, and not so cute. All of my warm weather clothes were dirty, so the best I could pull together was a pair of black leggings and T-shirt. I must have looked as pitiful as I felt, because as soon as I assessed how long the line was, a poll worker came out, pointed at me and ushered me directly inside. At first, I thought it was just to escape the heat, but she got me started immediately in the voting process. I started thanking her profusely whilst pulling out my registration card. I have no idea if there was anything snide said as I was whisked inside, but I am grateful for that sweet woman who knew that that is just what you do in the South.

- Frances, count another one down for Haslam!