I'm outta here - after work, of course! I'm goin' home!
Although we probably would not ever move back to Dumas (never say never), it is still home and a place that I truly love going back to visit. Those are my roots. As redneck, as country, as ghetto as it is - it's home.
For those of you who are geographically challenged or just want to know where in the heck Dumas is, I've provided a map. (you should be hearing "Dixie" in your head right now.)
Justin and I both grew up there in the thriving metropolis of Dumas. If you aren't a school teacher or a farmer, you are the minority. Justin and I both were products of a farming father who instilled in us hard work, perseverance, and a "get up and go" perspective. Our mothers are the definition of fine southern women. They can cook a meal that'll embarrass a restaurant and can fix any problem with their sweet southern drawl and a hug. We were pretty blessed.
In Dumas, there is only one school - and everyone goes there from kindergarten through senior year. It's public. It's hometown. It's Bobcat Country. I would not have changed my Dumas Public School days for any hoity toity private school anywhere. We learned to be friends with all races, those on every financial tier, and had a darn good time doing it. Dumas Schools truly prepared me for life - life isn't a private bubble of those just like you.
One of my favorite things about Dumas is the country. {can I get an Amen?} As strange as it may sound, I miss the smell of dirt, cotton defoliant, and the buzz of the crop dusters flying overhead. The folks there know how to have a good time without much help. You'd be hard pressed to find a man who didn't drive a truck full of camo, gum boots, and a shovel or two. Heck - there's nothing to do there so you entertain yourselves. Whether it be fishin', huntin', 4-wheeler ridin', back roadin', softballin', footballin', bagg-o tossin', etcin', etcin', etcin' - it was a good time.
In Dumas, they also know how to eat. My stomach can only take it in small doses now, but we were raised on fried. Yes, fried. Anything. We fry biscuits, veggies, bread, meat, and dessert. From fried squash to fried pies - we ate fried. Our folks know how to fry up some wild game like none other. Oh - how I miss deer, dove, duck, fish.... anything that flies, swims, or runs in the woods come right out of the fryin' pan onto the plate. And don't forget the cajun hot crawfish. MMmm (no wonder we're all fat! haha)
{this is sounding really, really country}
Life in Dumas is a lot different from life here in the "big city" - as some in my family have so eloquently penned Nashville. Some think we've gone pagen and forgotten where we come from here after the move to the "big city," but that's far from the truth. We have learned to appreciate it more. Meggan, Justin, and I look forward to our time spent in SEARK (Southeast Arkansas). After all, we have our growing up in Dumas to blame for who we have become today. (Pretty darn good folks, if you ask me.)
We're headed home! Meggan and I are headed that way tonight and Justin will soon follow tomorrow. And, we're having a crawfish boil!! Being super close to Louisiana, SEARK has access to live crawfish in the Springtime. I. Can't. Wait.
So, I'm signing off and heading South for the weekend!
If you talk to me on Monday - please forgive the atrocious accent that quickly returns when I go home. It's just part of it.
I heard Country on the radio this morning and it couldn't be more fitting (other than Jason forgot the country girls from Tennessee and Arkansas in this song - we'll forgive him.)
Happy Easter, all. God is good. Take a minute to thank Him.
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