My family is decidedly pro-small town. You wouldn't know it by talking to me as I put on a pretty big front about being a city girl who enjoys the humanities, wine, and all things culture. (You can hardly catch my accent.) I mean, I do enjoy those things, but my roots stem from another place too. My mom and dad both grew up in the flat-lands of Texas. When I say flat, I mean that you can see twenty miles in all directions and if you stand on a tuna can, you can see thirty more miles. There are maybe three trees and a canyon in the panhandle of Texas. Tiny lakes sneak up on folks and are there, it seems, to add some thirst relief to the otherwise dusty landscape. The small towns surrounding the "hub" which is Lubbock are places where kids have to be on the basketball team, the cheerleading squad, and of course in 4H all at the same time because otherwise the teams wouldn't exist for lack of team attendance.

Mom describes her hometown like this: "The people get their entertainment from the land. They do things that other people wouldn't consider"fun." They hunt deer, quail, rattle snakes, and they fish. It's a place where your entertainment fund includes shot gun shells, bait, and beer money. These days, unless your a big-time farmer, it's hard to remain there." Like all small towns, Mom's is fading away. She realizes that it was a great place to grow up, but that that type of lifestyle is dwindling and people have to move to the cities in order to make it.

This is sad, especially since "they do grow good people there. It is a place where you learn to care for and support others and they care for and support you. You know everybody; you know their troubles and heart aches. As a result people care for each other and look-out for one another," says Mom. It's true and it makes me a little apprehensive about losing that sort of shepherding to the big city. We just have to be more intentional about loving one another and participating in each others lives: Bring over condolence caseroles and soup for the sick, attend the area sporting events and cheer for your friends' kids, participate in school functions and fund raisers, etc.

Don wranglin' a rattle snake

Me learning a lesson (probably on how to use my knuckles when throwin' a punch) from Just Don.



My Big Dutch! I absolutely ADORED this man. He was/is my hero. He lived through the Dust Bowl, he cooked outside like a real cowboy (dug a hole in the ground, filled it with coals (a sort of dutch oven) and made sourdough rolls, cobbler, etc. and he was ALWAYS on my side. Perhaps it was because I was the only granddaughter...



Mom and Don before the rattle snake days... I'm sorry I missed this picture before Don died. I would've given him hell about wearing high heels and carryin' a purse! What a city slicker!

Mimi (flat-land diva), Don, and My Big Dutch (fixin' a Seagram's VO and coke) at the lake