The weekend: My sweetheart surprises me with an early birthday present, the iPhone 4. I immediately download Instagr.am and I am hooked on the captured beauty of summer accross America.

Our Friday lunch date tradition continues across the bridge at the Albany Bistro . I've grown quite fond of Decatur's historic Albany neighborhood and my weekly drive over the river.

Friday Night, bright: Stumbling upon Jerry McGuire on Bravo and I am immediately transported to 1996; a movie date with my future husband, a seemingly ordinary night that remains peculiarly present in memory: the world narrowed down to just us; my date now such a presence for fifteen years of my life.

Jerry Maguire: This is going to change everything.
Dorothy: Promise?

A lovely Saturday afternoon of peach picking and a stroll through downtown Hartselle, a true southern gem of a place. We follow a yelp recommendation to The Freight House and discover a new southern culinary favorite, devouring black-and-bleu burgers topped with onion straws and a side of warm home made potato chips, all washed down with southern sweet tea served in mason jars.

“Everybody has their own America, and then they have pieces of a fantasy America that they think is out there but they can’t see. When I was little, I never left Pennsylvania, and I used to have fantasies about things that I thought were happening in the Midwest, or down South, or in Texas, that I felt I was missing out on. But you can only live life in one place at a time. And your own life while it’s happening to you never has any atmosphere until it’s a memory. So the fantasy corners of America seem so atmospheric because you’ve pieced them together from scenes in movies and music and lines from books. And you live in your dream America that you’ve custom-made from art and schmaltz and emotions just as much as you live in your real one.” -Andy Warhol

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