Mississippi - Mudpies and Steel Magnolias

Trip Start Apr 10, 2013
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Trip End Apr 14, 2013


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Flag of United States  , Mississippi
Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Mississippi is most beautiful in the spring. When I remember being a kid there, I can almost remember the smell of spring. It smells like honeysuckle and fresh cut grass.
One mission pressing on my heart so often in the spring is sharing how it feels where I grew up. There's not another memory of my childhood that I'd like to share more.
So we are off to catch fireflies, wish on shooting stars, hold our breath ready to shoot a skeet, hug my dad....a lot, ask papaw to "fire up" the tractor, wait on my little brother to get "home", listen to my boys as they misunderstand a few words here and there and my dads cackle as he grins a mile wide at his "city" grand kids, pray a bit because you really do feel a little closer to heaven, listen to my grandmother and great aunt perform a duet in there little brick church that once saw me when I was in diapers through the years as I brought my best friend and favorite boyfriend there to meet my grandparents, beg my Mamaw to make veggie soup and chocolate pie, or black eyes peas, cornbread and fried okra, run down the hillside until we think we may fall as our legs move faster than our bodies, get the greatest bear hug ive ever known from my grandaddy, crunch that fried catfish like its my last meal, over think going to Walmart because I feel lazy to see a hundred people that I know, watch carter turn those big brown eyes up to my dad and ask questions that papaw never thought the kid would ask, sit on the front porch and hope the dog doesn't hear you so you don't get locked to death, flip over rocks to find hundreds of Rollie pollies, hear my kids ask thirty times a day when Uncle Bundy will be there, make ourselves sick on apple fritters while the boys get nauseas from the RR Festival rides, run up Frisco Parks brick wall to prove I can still do it, see so many old friends as we walk through the always wet sidewalks at the festival, love every moment I can spend with my boys in the precious days we have to emerge ourselves in our deep southern roots.
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