"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to let you in."

-- Robert Frost

Monday, June 7, 2010

I'm going home

Nothing starts the summer off on the right foot like the best vacation trip ever. Just walk away and leave everything behind. School's over, activities wrapped up, all pulling external forces blocked out and no contact information left behind.

Where better to sit my weary bones down than a trip back to my roots. The deep south is the one place where you really can let it all go. And I mean let it all go.

Everything is deep fried in oil unchanged out for at least the last 20 years. That's what gives it such excellent flavor, I'm told.

The air is like a wet blanket lulling to sleep. Early to bed, late to rise, and a coupla naps somewhere in between.

The highways are really just two lane roads with stop lights. Covering 90 miles will take you a little over two hours but what's the hurry.

Folks talk a little bit slower and it's pretty much necessary if your trying to mentally translate what was just said to you.

I love it. Love everything about it. From the jug passed over the counter to us when we ordered "just water" with our chicken to the women arguing over their order of fried livers and gizzards.

Life is simple.

It's going home.


  1. You should come by and see us!

  2. Oh Cindy, if only we could! There's so much to squeeze into such a short period.