This is my grandmother in her garden, in front of her blooming apple tree. As she ages, seems to look more and more like Betty White by the day. And trust me, she's just as sassy. Grandma's great at dropping knowledge on you, as Grandma's should be. She can be a tad aggressive about it sometimes, but as I told her this past weekend, she's earned her soapbox. And she loves her soapbox. Grandma tells me I need to lose weight and start going to church. She also hates health care reform. This is a pretty typical Grandma position.
So, I spent my first weekend of unemployment hanging out with her, learning all about conservative wisdom. And West Texas. By the time I roll up on day 2 of my typical stays in Pampa, Texas, I'm pretty ready to leave. I mean, come on. It's west Texas. It smells like poop and diesel. But I've come to learn that I actually quite enjoy the bleakness of it all. There's a lot of beauty in being reminded you're so small. I told Chelsey that it takes a tough person to fall in love with the Midwest. As much as I love New Mexico, I've come to realize and embrace that Texas, that godforsaken state to the right (and now, to my left), is in my blood. I might not be that tough, but I'm genetically inclined for it.
Also, I've got a major case of playoff fever.
And the only cure is more Broingtons.
An Oklahoma City team will be participating in its first professional playoff event next week and I'm quite excited. I'll be logging onto ticketmaster on Friday at 10:00 on the dot to try and get tickets, along with the rest of the state. No one seems to be giving the Thunder any kind of chance at winning against the Lakers, but I say don't count them out just yet. Oklahoma's never had a problem being an underdog.
