You have no idea how long I have longed to type in that heading. 365. And as I sit here on New Years day in my jammies (the same place I was last year when I entered day 1, I will honestly confess that no angels are singing and the heavens surely aren't rejoicing. But I am. If you are reading this, that means that you have stuck with me for a long time. And for that, I thank you. I have so much I want to say about these last 365 days, but to be quite honest, I need to take a week long sabbatical to catch my breath and remove myself from the hampster wheel known as The Flip Project. So for now, you're going to have to settle for this: I did it.
I've been in Gruver for 9 of the last 40 days (or something like that). I have hit my wall. Run out of simple activities, conversation, and quite simply methods of maintaining my sanity. It is in no way an insult to 79040 zip code, because I always walk away from that town with some new insight on something or another. But I have reached the point of flat-out boredom. Tonight we leave for the final leg of our holiday marathon. For the final leg of the roadtrip known as 2010 for that matter.
Our preacher, Pete Wilson, wrote in his blog the other day that there are only a few people he agrees with 100% and those people aren't interesting (or something to that affect). I've come to love colorful people in this short life I've lived. And I have to believe that if someone's personality appears to fit neatly in a box then maybe they're not truly being who they were made to be. Enter, one Walter Murrell. A VERY colorful individual who lives in Hansford County. And we spent an evening about 10 miles from a blacktop road in an old tin barn full of empty tequila bottles hanging from the ceiling by wire like dead soldiers. And then there's the wind. The kind that exceeds 30 miles and hour and shakes the room on all 5 sides. So we sat around a wood burning stove in the glow of some neon signs w/ the likes of Charlie Robison & Toby Keith blaring from a Bose speaker tonight. And I was delighted to better know Walter Murrell. The hippie rancher of Hansford County. He collects toy tractors. And escapes to Mexico at least once a year for his soul's revival. Quite frankly, he cracks me up. And quite frankly, I like him alot.
I'm not gonna lie. I'm starting to get somewhat sentimental as I make these final entries. Like I want every day to be much more interesting than it is so i can go out with a bang. But the truth is, life is not like the movies. It is much more sporadic. Harder to predict and I'm glad for that. But back to today...
As I mentioned yesterday, we find ourselves back in the great state of Texas for the final hunting trip of 2010. And it brings me great joy to know that I have almost....not quite, but almost survived another year of these windy, cold, rural, quiet, dry and a little bit depressing days spent in Gruver. On one hand, these little farming towns are gold because they prioritize the things that matter. God, family, church, school, etc. But it's almost like an oxymoron to me because at the same time there are so many people that are starved for community. Living out in the country and not seeing but a few people a day scares the crud out of me. I would be so lonely. And yet there are those who are completely fulfilled. I guess it's a matter of blooming where you're planted. And today I was planted 4 miles west and 1 mile south of town with 18 pheasant hunters while the wind nearly took my feet out from under me. Chalk it up to marriage to find me (the least outdoorswoman) all up in that.
No matter whose house we're at or which holiday we're celebrating it usually ends up with a guitar around a table laughing and singing with Uncle Dennis. But this year we were all gathered around a video of Uncle Dennis (& Jake & Cole) singing in their jammies about 20 years ago. At one point I looked around the room and took notice at how everyone was hanging on to every second of old tape like it was gold. And it made me feel really really good about this project and all the nights I've stayed up late uploading then transferring then editing then uploading again then embedding and writing a little copy. If I said I've wanted to quit a million times, it would still be an understatement. But I know that someday this will matter to somebody. Time flies and although I can never slow it down, I can do my best to remember it.
Some say that a family that prays together, stays together. I agree. But I'm gonna take it a step farther and say that a family that sings together, stays together too. I don't know how this started, but I hope it never ends. Merry Christmas from the Galyon's.