I just got home from Dallas, and I'm trying to settle down. I'll tell you more about my nephew in the next hundred of my posts, but in this one, I'm going to talk about me. Selfish, I know, but I'm about to burst. I'm trying to settle down because even if I wouldn't have seen a single family member or friend these past three days, the trip would have been just as refreshing.
I love Texas. It's just something that has been in my blood since I grew up. While difficult to explain, I'm not alone in this - it's an epidemic there. Texans are as proud of being Texan as they are of being American. I didn't realize how much I missed being there, especially Dallas, until I got there. Here are a few of the things that I miss the most.
I miss big trucks. This Ford pickup is even named after King Ranch, a ranch that covers 825,000 acres of South Texas land (larger than Rhode Island) and is one of the largest ranches in the world.
I miss true, classic country music - Hank Williams, Jr., Merle Haggard, Willie Nelson, George Strait, Loretta Lynn, Emmylou Harris, Dolly Parton, Alison Kraus, Martina McBride, and of course, Johnny Cash. The radio station 99.5, The Wolf, was my favorite station when I lived in Dallas, and listening to it this week, I remembered why. It's Texas Country.
I also miss dirt, Sonic, and the abundance of personal space.
I miss my Jeep, which I sold when we came to Philadelphia.
There's just something about these things that make me feel like I'm home, a feeling I cling to because feeling "home" is such a distant memory since I have moved every two years since 1996. Being in Texas for me is like getting a bear hug from your grandfather - something you'll never forget and something you'll never stop wishing for.