OK, I admit it. I was wrong. I think we are all guilty of this: regional ignorance. I should know better, I really should. After all, I am from the south. I have heard it all. After attending a private university where most of the student body came from out of state, I thought my head would explode from all the lame, done-to-death, lackluster jokes that involved everything from cousin-marrying to moonshine to banjos. But, as it turns out, I am just as guilty as the next guy.
I always had this mental image of New Jersey. It involved smoke stacks, dirty garbage strewn beaches that smelled of dead fish, mobsters, and dumpsters where the Law and Order guys dig out dead hookers. I am guilty, and today I hold up my hand before the blog world and apologize. I was wrong wrong wrong.
My lovely cousin (shown below in all her radiant glory with her equally lovely son) is a born and raised southerner as well, and when I heard that her husband being transferred to New Jersey, I clasped my pearls and gasped (like any good southern woman would do). Moving from Texas to New Jersey! I thought to myself, 'I could never do that.' Well I'm eating it now.
This is the house they are living in. It's gorgeous! The whole town is gorgeous, with fall weather (which we are NOT getting down here), rolling hills and beautiful trees. I promptly printed this picture out, went home, showed it to my hubby and declared that we needed to move. In with them. Just kidding!