Dear Sunday Letter friends,
Did you remember to “fall back” last night? Once again, the clock high above our pantry door shows the correct time. Until March, anyway. Ha.
FYI, Hawaii and most of Arizona do not observe daylight saving time.
Something to note on this chilly November morning: Daylight Saving Time was never about the farmers. It was originally about saving energy during WWI. Today, I’m not sure what it’s about other than making our bodies feel out of sync. Crazy what one hour can do. Right?
I didn’t have a chance to write a Sunday Letter last weekend because I was having too much fun in Texas at a wedding. Yes, it seems I’ve been in wedding mode lately—our daughter, Kelsey, got married in September and our friends’ son, Luke, in October. Before these two weddings, I can’t remember the last wedding I attended.
And, I had forgotten how much fun weddings can be!
Weddings give us a chance to pause, to think about life in general and family in particular. I find myself reflecting on those no longer with us, and thinking how proud they would be of the bride and groom, how amazed they would be to see the legacy they built, the generations that came after them, because of them.
Weddings give us a reason to buy a new dress and splurge on the super deluxe pedicure. Not that we need a reason for either. (Yes, hotel bathroom selfie…)
And the dancing! Get on the dance floor and shake your booty—who cares what you look like? Songs have the power to take you back to your wedding, your prom, your time. Plus, what happens on the dance floor stays on the dance floor. Unless someone snaps a picture and shares it across the interweb…
Plus, the food! Weddings mean yummy food and luscious dessert and drinks of some sort. Did you know that calories and carbs and all that jazz cease to exist at weddings? It’s true. According to me.
I’m thinking about becoming a wedding crasher. (Not really, but kind of.)
Every time I drive from Oklahoma into Texas (or vice versa), I snap a picture of the Red River. It’s always a terrible picture because, well, I’m driving and holding my arm toward my dirty window and snapping a picture without looking or focusing. Just to see what I get.
Why do I do this?
During the wintertime when we lived in Dallas (and hoped like the dickens for snow), our favorite weather guy, Pete Delkus of WFAA, always talked about the wintry weather in north Texas near the Red River.
Everything weather related always seemed to happen around the Red River. Maybe the snow pushed down into Dallas. Often it did not. It wasn’t Pete’s fault, but sometimes we blamed him…
One time when Tate was a young boy scout, I drove him into Oklahoma for a campout. Two memorable things happened on that drive. A roadrunner followed our car for a while, and as we crossed the Red River, it was the first time Tate really saw it. His wide-eyed excitement (over both those things) has stuck with me all these years.
“This is the Red River where all the snow falls?” he whispered.
And then he looked out the car window hoping to see Wile E. Coyote, because, you know, the Roadrunner was usually just one step ahead of him. Meep-Meep.
Even though we had a cold Halloween, the kids were out in force. And they came wearing clever, creative, often homemade costumes. This year we even saw throwback plastic masks, like the ones that were popular when we were kids.
Many of the adults dressed up, too.
Top right corner—is that dad/mom the Abominable Snowman? I think so!
Yesterday, I gathered Halloween from all the nooks and crannies of our house and porch, then packed everything away.
Today, I will put out Thanksgiving decor.
Why do so many people leapfrog straight over Thanksgiving and start decorating for Christmas as soon as the jack-o-lanterns go into the compost?
I can’t do that. I believe the turkey deserves his time.
Friday, we spent the day poking around in Newton County, mostly driving Scenic Highway 7, exploring the quaint town of Jasper, and WAITING to eat at the Cliff House Inn. Evidently this is high season at the Cliff House as everyone out chasing fall color stops there for lunch.
Arkansas Grand Canyon, y’all.
This year’s fall color isn’t the most brilliant I’ve seen, but every fall in the Ozarks is something special. And just like buying a polka dot dress or getting the deluxe pedicure, you don’t need a reason to take a drive through the forest. The forest is the reason.
Things Momma Says
(while as the doctor)
I hope I washed my ears.
See you next time Sunday Letter friends!
Thanks for reading. I appreciate each of you.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.