I have lived most all of my life in the state of Texas, except for six short years in North Carolina and six even shorter years in Oklahoma. North Carolina was beautiful and humid and not very friendly - at least in this very tiny town in Eastern N.C., where if you were not born within at least a 60 mile radius of Pantego (this was the name of the town and the old folks said it was named for the local Indians' horses who would drink from the creek, pant, and go - thus, Pantego - oh well, this is just heresay anyway) and your last name wasn't Smith, then you were forever an outsider. We made it intact through four hurricanes and one tropical storm in as many years and left this strange experience in a 26" UHaul on Thanksgiving Day (was this some telltale sign or what?) in 1999 most likely never to return.

Oklahoma has been a much more pleasant experience as the people here are very accepting and do not seem to go into spasms or even flinch in the least at newcomers - the North Carolinians were much disturbed by our presence, my husband being what they thought was a cajun from the Bayou country of Louisiana (he was really from northern Louisiana) and myself a foreigner from that far away land south of the Red River called Texas. My one complaint about Oklahoma, however, and one that I become somewhat mildly offended over is when I see my UT horns upside down on the back of every pick up truck between here and Gainsville. And speaking of the OU and Texas rivalry, I just happened to get stuck in a longgggg line of OU fans going to Dallas last October, which by the way is my birthday month, and can you just try to guess how many desecrated longhorn stickers I had to stare at as we all inched our way down I-35 in route to the Cotton Bowl. I had become really quite incensed when I finally arrived in Dallas and could exit of the interstate leaving that trail of red and white OU car banners behind. But all joking aside, I like it just fine in Native America - but it isn't home.

I wonder often why I have moved from place to place in these last few years. My choices have changed my life and the lives of my children. I have missed my family left behind in Texas and that comforting sense of belonging to a certain locale and a distinct culture. I think I have lost my identity sometimes and more importantly my Texas drawl! As they say, "You can take the girl out of Texas but you can't take the Texas out of the girl." Oh well, I guess I am just rambling on, but I do wonder about the choices we all make in our lives. Are these choices, no matter how small and insignificant or how big and important they may be, the choices we were and are destined to make, and therefore, the only choices we could have made since our lives would be already pretty much mapped out. Or are we in control of our fate and able to take hold of the reins and direct our future to a large degree? I do not know which philosophy I would have more peace with and I think that the reality is that the truth is probably some of both ... or maybe I am just thinking way too much.