Pennsylvania in August

We just got back from Pennsylvania on Monday night. Aside from how horrible Jude is now at airplane rides and being one sick little dude soon upon arrival, it was a wonderful trip. My parents live on 36-acres of beautiful PA fields and forest and Jude couldn't have been more in love with it. For Jude, I think it was a magical place where dirt, rocks, and ducks abound, where there's endless room to run away from mommy after sneaking out the front door--not to mention the fact that they have three dogs and a large pond, of which he would run and yell "doh!" and splash his hands in the water whenever he could get a chance--and the grass grows tall enough to tickle his chubby ankles. He especially made friends with Uncle Bryon and his sweet shoulder rides and cuddling before bed while watching Elmo, as well as Grandpa Burwell who couldn't get enough of taking Jude out on the canoe or help but steal him away from dinner to play in the warm summer rain. 
And then there was Grandma. Grandma had endless treats, stories, baths, and kisses up her sleeves--and she had Jude at treats. 

So, that first week we hung out, went to the Crayola Factory, visited with family members and ate enough pizza to beg the question if all the carbs in the world were lonely and needed a good home. 
And I left no slice behind.