Taking a break from our regularly scheduled, light-hearted, family-oriented posts for a reality check. Listening to one of my favorite stations on Pandora, which is titled "Texas Country" and is my top rated station.
We choose to live here (one of five options) because it's cheap, there's a lot of opportunity for our family and it's easy to homeschool in Texas. And it's close to home.
However, Dallas is a poor representation of what Texas really is.
Dallas is a huge city. The suburbs are just an extension of the city without the skyscrapers. The people are an extension of the city-dwellers, with houses and grassy yards instead of apartments in a concrete jungle. The traffic in the 'burbs is an extension of the gridlock of downtown. The rat race in the 'burbs is the same rat race in Dallas, with less opportunity to race via mass transit. The lifestyle in the metroplex is not for me.
All of that said...I am a PROUD Texan. (Read: Texan...*not* Texas Longhorn. There is a difference. It's huge.) No, I wasn't born here, but I don't know any other home. I am proud of the history of Texas. The hard working, brave, courageous history. I'm proud that Texas is unique in so many ways. I'm proud that Texas is diverse, in geography and population.
It makes me sad to admit, but after almost 4 years here I am not at home. I am comfortable in my home with my family. I know my way around (pretty well) and we have favorite places and routines.
Unfortunately, my childhood home is no longer what I remember, and while it is different it is still comfortable. It is in a different part of Texas, a different pace of life, a different outlook. It's down home.
I long for home.
From a long-time favorite song: (Where the Green Grass Grows)
Well I'm from a map dot
A stop sign on a black top
I caught the first bus that I could hop from there
But all of this glitter is getting dark
There's concrete growing in the city park
I don't know who my neighbors are
And there's bars on the corner and bars on my heart
I'm gonna live where the green grass grows
Watch my corn pop up in rows
Everynight be tucked in close to you
Raise our kids where the good Lord's blessed
Point our rocking chairs towards the west
And plan our dreams where the peaceful river flows
Where the green grass grows