September 19, 2011

Country Fever

Sean and I attended my cousin’s 16th birthday party at my aunt and uncle's farm yesterday.  There was fried chicken, fried okra, and fried pie.  Man, I love being from the South.  There was also fishing, the wiring of huge speakers in my cousin’s new truck, and the installing of our joint family gift: Camouflage Seat Covers.  Have I mentioned, I love being from the South?

It was a great evening and it reminded me how much I love the country.  As I sat on the dock watching Sean fish, a faint smell of cow manure blew up my sniffer and it took me right back to “The Buffalo.”  The Buffalo is the place of many childhood vacations. If I was lucky, I got to go twice in a summer, once in June and again in August. The Buffalo was a place where you'd bring your horses, ride trails, and camp out for a week.  Highlights include riding my horse as he swam down the river, line-dancing every night to a live band, and laughing ‘till I couldn’t breathe after giving X-lax (under the guise of candy) to a man who really irritated me. (All but his pride recovered.  Don't worry.)  I also remember mud fights that included fistfuls of horse manure, late-night frog-gigging, and other classy American past times. 

Tonight, as I watched my husband reel in his 3rd catfish, I took in the sights, the smells, and the sounds of the country.  I wish we lived closer to land, closer to fishing holes, closer to wide-open pastures, and my gosh, I wish we lived somewhere we could go mudding.  As a teenager, we’d leave school during lunch hour, go mudding and be back in time for the next class. Tonight as I listened to my cousin talk about mudding in his own backyard, I became jealous. Very jealous.

Sometimes I try to create a blueprint for my "heaven" in my mind.  I know God needs no help, but I enjoy imagining, and I'm sure he gets a kick out of how limited my perspective is.  But, regardless, here are some things from "my heaven."

This morning I found a seedtick attached to me and it just felt right.  Perhaps my fever is worse than I suspected.  The only cure? More cowbell.  For real... more cowbell.

See you tomorrow.
Mae Mae