Time to Fly

Yesterday was my last full day in Tyler and I basically went out on a fried food high. Just look at that creamy good gravy drowning a crunchy coated slab of chicken fried steak. Texas toast, which I didn’t eat, good old mash equally smothered with country gravy, which I did eat, and a pile of crispy coated okra for good measure.

I do not eat like this in California.

The last seven days have been a relaxing mix of spending time with my older sis and her family in their newly established lone star homestead (okay, house, but I’m embracing the culture here), of tracing Shelby County family roots, of visiting the local establishments where they do all the smalls of everyday life, of eating good ol’ Tex Mex and Southern style meals (relishing every morsel), all of this giving me a good sense of their new life in this state. For the record I’m returning home resembling a hearty portion of chicken and dumplings minus the chicken. It’s been AWESOME—but my bags are now packed and we leave for the airport in just moments.

Off I go to the place of my birth and the sandy shores that I love. Back to beautifully sunny Southern California I go with a bittersweet smile and a saddish yet happy heart. I don’t know when we’ll meet face to face again. All this is uncharted. So I return to the land of my birth that also happens to be overpriced, over-everything, five lane freeway rush hour traffic and I LOVE it! For there’s no place like home. Home sweet home.