Take Me To Texas

Like the sign says, I was not born in Texas. My family moved here when I was 3. I spent the majority of my elementary/junior high years in a tiny town--population 285 according to the sign. My dad was the Deputy Sheriff for years, then he was the County Judge. I have many fond memories of being picked up from school in his on-duty vehicle, being taken up to the courthouse, and being allowed to sit around and drink a Coke. I would wander the streets of our town on my bicycle, visit friends' houses, try my hand at raising litters of kittens that my cat, Doll, would have, and spend long nights up at melodrama practice with my parents. During summer months, it was an understanding that you stayed outside and entertained yourself from the time you ate breakfast until you were called in for supper. And, your rear end had better be in that house when the street lights turned on...or...else.

I can honestly say I had a wonderful childhood. If we didn't have money, I wasn't aware of that. I had everything I needed at all times. I was taught to say yes ma'am/no ma'am, yes sir/no sir, and please/thank you at a young age. I was raised with one brother who is 3 1/2 years younger than me, and we just did things the simple way. I would help my dad velcro his bullet proof vest on before his shifts, and I would either be right up under my mom's feet in the kitchen or I'd be waiting patiently on the other side of her locked bedroom door until she finished her homework from college. My favorite past times included jumping on my bed for hours on end while listening to Tina Turner's "We Don't Need Another Hero," playing with my thousands of My Little Ponies, and playing with my millions of Barbies.
It's just what I did. It's how I was raised. We got dirty. We ate popsicles on the front porch in the evening. We ran through the sprinkler in the 100 degree weather. We drank straight from the garden hose in the yard. Life was good.

As I hit my teenage years, we moved to A-Town. I attended a private academy due to being somewhat picked on as a youngster and having issues with large groups of children. It was at this academy that I met the father to my 3 C's. I can't say I have any regrets, because I don't regret having the 3 most wonderful children in the world.

C1 was actually born in the Dallas/Fort Worth area, so I've lived in the "big city,"
Deep down, I knew the fast-paced, keeping up with the Jones', crazy traffic life wasn't for me. We moved back to A-Town before C2 was born.
The Panhandle of Texas had a way of drawing me back.
The house C2 was born in was by far my favorite...built in the 1950's with original creaky wood floors, pocket doors, cozy-sized rooms, and the smell of old. I don't know how else to describe it.
Unfortunately, their father did not enjoy the smaller home, and we moved to something bigger and better before C3 was born. It was great and all---I had my pick of a nice mom mobile or a brand new sports car to drive on a daily basis, I stayed at home with my children, and I did pretty much anything I pleased.
But, it wasn't me.
As their father and I fell apart after 14 years of marriage, I found myself wondering what in the heck I was going to do. I had started working as a corrections officer when C3 was old enough to attend Pre-K, and I didn't make enough money to support the lavish lifestyle I had been living.
The simple country life was calling.,,

Then, I met K.
It wasn't your typical meet. I made eye contact with him in the gym wall mirror as I was finishing a set of shoulder presses with dumbbells. I was wondering why this Hulk of a guy was looking at me. Then, I saw him walking my direction. Oh no. No no no no no no. No guys. No talking. I was NOT interested. Having just been through a horrible separation/divorce, a man was the last thing I was interested in. After being quite the sassy-sasserton to him, he finally convinced me to give him a chance.
I admit, I judged a book by its cover.
K would show up to the gym in muscle shirts or tank tops, so I assumed he was one of those who would drown out the sound of a girl's voice with head-banging junk music blasting from his truck stereo.
The first ride I took with him in that truck had me doing a double-take. First of all, he cranked up the COUNTRY MUSIC. Wait, what?!?
Second of all, he took me on a nice tour of the countryside to see his HORSES. He talked about growing up in a small town just East of A-Town, how he was his daddy's sidekick when they worked cattle and planted crops, and how he was riding a horse at the age of 3. He also talked about running wild and crazy on hundreds of acres of land, drinking from the garden hose, and building fences with his grandmother.  He was born and raised in Texas, and he loved the country life.Yes, he is a police officer, but it isn't what defines him. His cowboy boots and hat were the real deal.
I wasn't just impressed, I was blown away....
I've been along for the ride with K since that day.

We sold the big ol' house in A-Town as quickly as possible and found ourselves knees-deep in a lifelong project of restoring a farmhouse on 10 acres built in 1950---complete with the creaky floors, pocket doors, cozy-sized rooms, and the smell of old. I don't know how else to describe it.
It's perfect.

I believe you can raise your children right anywhere in this world. I'm not saying that way out in the wide open spaces of Texas is the be-all-and-end-all, but it's certainly my cup of tea. My kiddos get to experience doing chores, caring for animals (16 chickens, 6 guinea hens, 2 goats, 5 horses, 5 cats, and 4 dogs, to be exact), splashing around in the mud with muck boots, wandering around in the fresh air while exploring and catching frogs/snakes/etc, looking at the millions of stars without city lights, and drinking from the garden hose. The porch light will always be on, and family/friends are always welcome.

K says this is where he wants to stay for the rest of his life, watching the sunrise while holding my hand on a porch swing. He loves Texas, loves the country life, and obviously loves us.

When this song came out, he couldn't wait for me to hear it. He said, "This is it--this is me. Take me to Texas...or better yet, leave me here."

Take Me To Texas---George Strait Video     (click link to watch)

~Andy