365/365

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.

364/365

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.

363/365

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.