Homegrown

I think that some people have decided that I have changed, which in all reality might be true. But I feel that I am still the same girl that likes to take long walks in the dark barefoot staring up at the moon, and engage in all sorts of hickish activities. I will always crave East Texas and all it represents. It is my comfort zone, and the place I feel happiest. Sure, one day I will move and start a life elsewhere, but I will always return. And that dreamy, stupid, utmost happy look on my face will always be present when I do.

Today, I helped my dad rake hay. Glamorous job - let me tell you. I honestly look like a Mexican, I am so dark right now. Unfortunately, the tan lines are less than to be desired but at least it is not a farmer's tan.

I really don't have much more to say right now. I will write more later.


~Abigail

Quotes of the Day:

Okay for some reason, I am in a Elizabeth Peters - I am really tall- what the heck- mood. So bear with me.

"This Time It Wasn't My Fault.
On several previous occasions I have found myself up to my neck in trouble (and that's pretty high up, because I am almost 6 feet tall), which might have been avoided if I had displayed a little ladylike discretion. This time, however, I was innocent of everything except stupidity. They say some people attract trouble, I attract people who attract trouble."

"A man can't understand why a women's handbag is such a sensitive object- almost an extension of her person. I don't fully understand it myself. Maybe it's because we keep so many private intimate possessions in our purses- love letters, cosmetics, jelly doughnuts... Maybe a purse is a symbol of the womb, or something equally Freudian. I can't explain it, but I know I hate the idea of a stranger's hands rummaging in my bag."

"What women in her right mind would want to be six feet tall? How can you look coyly up at a man from under your lashes when your eyes are the same level, or higher? How can you find skirts long enough to cover your knees? Put a pitchfork in my hand, and I look like a farmer; put a spear in my hand and I look like and undernourished Valkyrie. I'd much rather be cute and cuddly like Gerda- well maybe not quite that cuddly.

-Elizabeth Peters