ramblings from an arkansas farm girl
Dear Sunday Letter friends,
I’m baaaack. Sorry I missed writing my letter last week. It was a crazy week (part of which is detailed below). This week brings the Great Pumpkin and Halloween and Milk Duds that I’ve already begun sneaking from the trick-or-treat stash. You know what all this means?
Santa Claus will come to town in fifty-eight days…
Yikes, y’all. Somewhere in the sock drawer of my mind it still seems like mid-summer to me.Continue Reading
Last Tuesday, I drove from Fayetteville, Arkansas to Vicksburg, Mississippi. Even though the trip is 400 miles one way, it’s not a bad drive, not while listening to a mesmerizing audio book and watching farmland pass in all directions. I’ll admit the drizzle from Little Rock onward made it not so fun. You know how annoying almost-rain can be, the sort that makes for constant wiper speed adjustment with an occasional blast of the defroster to clear the foggy windshield.
My drive came with that sort of drizzle.Continue Reading
Dear Sunday Letter friends,
As I write today’s Sunday Letter, I realize we have a special sort of Sunday morning relationship going on here. With my first cup of coffee steaming on the side table (a table that once belonged to my Nana), I claim my favorite spot on the corner of our couch, sink beneath the quilt handmade by Aunt Rena and Aunt Lavern, and divulge a few of my burning thoughts to you. (Haha, sometimes not so burning, I know.)
I’ll start with a confession. I have a football hangover leftover from watching part of Florida/Vandy + Tennessee/Auburn and all of the Baylor/Texas + Arkansas/Ole Miss games. I saw a little of the neon, star-bright Oregon game, but those uniforms nearly made my eyes bleed.
Both of my favorite teams lost but neither should have.
It’s not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game.
Whatever.
That works for t-ball.Continue Reading
