There She Is...Miss America!

I don't know if little girls still get giddy about meeting Miss America, but they did when I was little. When I was about six years old we had an old TV where you used the rotary dial to change the channel. Actually, it was probably new at the time. My mom told me we were going to fudge bed time and watch Miss America. She spun that rotary dial through all the snowy channels (my child will never know about snowy channels since everything is digital now) until we heard the theme song. I don't know who won, but there's something magical about little girls and crowns. I ran to my dress up chest and fished out a white stretchy headband that Santa had brought adorned with pearls and sparkly pink and purple flowers. I'm sure I wore it proudly long after I fell asleep that night, which was probably about the time the talent competition started.

Two years ago as a full-fledged, income earning, adult I was invited to a Miss America party with other full-fledged, income earning adults. It was impeccably planned and themed by state. Every girl was supposed to choose a state candidate to root for and wear something symbolizing that state. Did I go? You better believe I did!

Then, three weeks ago I got a Monday afternoon invitation to have dinner with royalty! Miss American 2011, Theresa Scanlan, was in town to meet with stakeholders in an agriculture movement.

Transplanted

I’m a transplant.

I thought our family was settled, at least for awhile. We’d bought a house in the country, added a baby to our family of two, settled into careers we loved.

Then over a normal lunch on a normal day, a friend casually suggested we turn our life upside down.

I laughed. Then I told my husband, my dad and my boss, as a joke. Then my husband started looking at houses, my dad started talking about finding your purpose in life, and my boss said I could take my job with me.

That’s where it got serious. Two weeks later my husband had an interview. Five weeks later we both had jobs. A week after that we had a rental home, and three weeks after that my baby and I were on a flight across the country to meet up with my hubby and start a new life.

So now we live here. Well, not here, but you get the idea.

I’m not just any transplant, though. I grew up on a ranch in the middle of Texas nowhere. Most of my childhood was spent on eight miles of dirt road. The first time I lived in the city limits was when I went across the state for college. I know about preg checking cows, windstorms and burning trash to keep the critters away, but I do not know about traffic circles, recycling pickup on Tuesdays or community green spaces.

Because every day I laugh at myself over some new revelation about city living, my work in agriculture and politics, my life with a 10 month old, my marriage to Mr. Wonderful, and the absurdity of how life has changed in just one year, here’s my blog…