Where I'm From

I haven't made a peep on here lately, mostly because I'm TDP (Too Damn Pregnant) and subsequently exhausted, but I loved Erica's post so much that I had to steal the idea for myself.

Where I'm From

I am from rolling valleys, from grapevines as far as the eye can see, from springtime fields flushed yellow and thick with mustard.

I am from the big drafty house on the hill, from cobwebs and scorpions and stacks of old magazines piled in corners.

I am from lazy weekends at the river, inner tubes, tadpoles and sandy car floors.

I am from Glen Miller and Ella Fitzgerald, from Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert and movies with Dad.

I am from roadside bushes thick with berries, stained fingers and cobblers and one for me, one for the bowl.

From three little towheads fighting like demons, hairless baby dolls and comic books, from home movies and It Came From the Laundry.

I am from strong Southern women, from the golden rule and Thumper's mother, from a Peter Pan record on the Fisher-Price player and the sandman's comin', don't you cry.

I am from sausage pie and pork chops, from salami sandwiches and orange juice and how many popovers can I eat before it's time to go to school?

I am from crisp fall air scented with wine, from woodsmoke and apples hung in windows and cut-your-own Christmas trees.

From the animal shelter, Breyer horses and best friends since kindergarten.

I am from hippies, health food stores, and farmer's markets, from tourists and tastings, from a small town just figuring out who it wants to be.