This is what redneck mouse hunting looks like. When they die and fall in between the drywall, that's a problem. Especially when it's in your food storage.
How can I resist going downtown and dancing with my good friends that I haven't seen in a year? Love this boy.
Don't be jealous of how good looking me and my family are. This is what it looks like when I haven't been home in a while and we watch a movie. What can I say? My mama loves me.
Why deny it? He's the cutest thing you've ever seen.
Coming home is always weird. It's always a reminder of the different facets of my life but also of the different parts of me. Sometimes I wonder if these different facets will ever mesh together. Sometimes, I get so caught up in the life that I have in Utah, that I forget what it's like to be home. I have these two visions of my life and sometimes they don't always coincide with each other. How do you reconcile the desire to live in some big city somewhere, walk to work (or take a subway), have an incredibly amazing social life, with just as strong a desire to live out in the country. Living the simple life with a few kids, surrounded by an abundance of family. Surrounded by 80 acres of beautiful landscape, talking life concepts with the people I love the most, suddenly what brand of jeans I'm wearing doesn't seem all that important anymore. I was talking to my cousin's wife about the difference between the two worlds and she says coming home, she just feels like she can breathe. I guess that's a good description. What I can't figure out, is which one makes it easier to breathe in anymore. I used to think being home was easier than being out in the real world. Who knows anymore. All I know is, there's still a part of me that wants to live the simple life. I want to can vegetables in the summer, take hours out of the day to just sit on the front porch and watch the family grow. I don't want to care about the brand of clothes I'm wearing. I don't want to constantly be worrying that what I'm wearing is not as good as the girl that walks in right behind me. I want to go ride a horse whenever I feel like it. Or spend an entire afternoon tearing up the landscape with a dirtbike, or 4-wheeler. I guess one could have both. I guess the real issue is, do I want to come home anymore or not. There's a city girl in me somewhere, who likes to get to a grocery store after a two minute drive, however, there is also a country girl who's fine chopping wood, getting dirty, and talking about destroying cars with the best of them. That's home to me. I'm proud of my redneck ways. I'm no fashionista. Probably never will be. Mostly because deep down inside of me I know, cashmere scarves and bare mineral make-up are not going to help me if I get my daddy's truck stuck in the mud after we take it off roading. (Metaphorically speaking of course, I do not have a death wish, 'Ole Carl would kill me for sure.)
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