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Gone Country, Back to My Roots. Part 2.

Melissa Beene Ford/ Uncategorized

Lately I’ve been dreaming a lot about living in the country.

Raising farm kids, with their very own horse.

Farm-fresh eggs every morning from our very own brood of chickens.

Fantasizing about hearing the sounds of nature at night ~ crickets and coyotes ~ rather than the sounds of gun shots ambulance sirens, trains, bass blaring from car speakers all hours of the day and night, and traffic noise that goes along with living on a semi-busy street a few blocks from downtown.

Poring over farmhouse floor plans, and designing, in my mind, the perfect farm-style kitchen of my dreams.

You know, to cook all the organic vegetables we’ll be growing in our garden….

I’m sure it has a lot to do with the turbulence of the past four years….the remodeling, the sick spouse, the brain tumor….

Its all been, well, a lot to handle….

“Lot” being an understatement.

And I want to run away.

But it also goes deeper than that…..my roots are in the country. And I’m feeling this pull to get back to my roots and live the simple life.

Hard….but simple. If that makes any sense.

Going to my cousin’s wedding in March didn’t help the situation.

At this church.

This church, that you can’t get to without driving a couple of miles down Nacogdoches-county-red-clay-dirt roads to get to.

This church that has been in existence since 1834.

Isn’t this just so Little House on the Prairie?

Something about this church makes me want to spread out a quilt and have a picnic on the grounds, just like the Sunday when Ma and Pa Baptized their baby boy…

There’s a cemetary out back.

My grandfather is buried here.

Well, not technically my ‘blood’ grandfather…technically, my dad’s step-dad. But my ‘blood’ grandfather died in 1947, so Truce was the one I knew and loved.

Here’s Truce and me back in 1976. And Joe the horse. We loved Joe, and going to feed the cows with Truce in his old red Chevy truck is one of my favorite childhood memories.

Truce is buried next to his first wife, Zee.

And their two babies. 🙁 Its a sad story.

I love my church, but something about this church makes me want to worship the Lord here with Ma and Pa and Mary, Laura, and Carrie, and the Olesons and Reverend Alden on Sunday mornings.

And drive home down this road.

And be neighbors with these folks.

And have a barn like this one.

And have a sign just like this one down by the fence.

And go on dates with my hubby on Saturday nights here, at the 7th Street Restaurant.

Don’t laugh; it was featured in Texas Monthly. That ain’t nothin’ to sneeze at.

I’d love to live closer to my 92-year-old grandmother.

I don’t see her enough, and that makes me sad.

I’d build a house just like this one….white frame, deep porch with a blue ceiling, hardwood floors. The house in my dreams has a tin roof, though…

One of these days……..

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Comments

  1. B says

    June 23, 2009 at 6:41 pm

    Can I come too? That is totally my dream right now (only not in Texas as it is too far from family :o) It is hard to be patient, isn't it?

    Reply
  2. Connie says

    June 23, 2009 at 9:38 pm

    I feel the same pull at times. We use to have chickens and I loved that. It seems we all live in the "fast lane" these days. I would love a slower paced, country-fied life too 🙂

    Reply
  3. Anna Msson says

    August 11, 2012 at 11:48 pm

    I was googeling churches because I wanted to show my fiancee the "type of church" I'd like to get married in and stumbled upon this one. It's such a lovely church! And besides that, I really like your post, thanks for that!

    Reply
  4. Anna Msson says

    August 11, 2012 at 11:50 pm

    Hmm, It didn&#39;t leave any info when I left the comment and I always think it&#39;s nice to see who comments on once&#39;s blog so here goes.. :)<br />Anna @ http://www.scandinaviancottage.com/

    Reply

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About Me


Hey there... I'm Melissa! Texas girl. Mom to three + one goldendoodle. Believer. Old house fanatic. Creating a happy + healthy home with purpose is my passion. I'm so glad you're here!

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I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 years of paint off of this door down to the wood and start over… but that person has no business starting new projects. 😅 My neighbors must have thought this project would never end. *I* thought this project would never end. 😰 If you’re thinking of doing this yourself? Just don’t, ok? Throw the whole door away and buy a new one. 😂🤣 Just kidding.  Old house weirdos like me… we can’t just do things the easy way. Anyhoo… after some trial and error, @sherwinwilliams Celestial is what I landed on, and I have to say… I like it. Periwinkle-ish blue looks great with the yellow house and will look even better when the azaleas are in bloom. Was it all worth it? That’s not important right now. 🤭 Will I do this all again in two years? The magic eight ball says… without a doubt. 👏🏻 I’ve already picked the next color. #gluttonforpunishment #somefoolsneverlearn #oldhouselove #oldhomelove #makinghome #southernliving #gardenandgun #azaleadistrict #tylertx
Spring in the Azalea District makes the winters in Spring in the Azalea District makes the winters in an 80-year-old house completely worth it … what broken pipes, icy hardwood floors and drafty windows? 🤔 I forgot already. #comeonspring #azaleadistrict #tylertx
Happy Saturday ☀️ Happy Saturday ☀️
Salt Lake City is always magical ✨ Salt Lake City is always magical ✨
2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrollin 2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrolling through my pics from the last twelve months made me realize how blessed and content I am. Prosperity, love, and peace have been ours in abundance, in spite of the pain of losing my dad. The second picture is the last picture of him… the last time I saw him. 💔 But God has been good to my family this year and 2022 is ending far better than it began. 😄 #2022inreview #thanksforthememories
Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍ Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍♀️
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That’s it. That’s the tour. (Slide two). 
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It’s a new trend I’m starting: bare Christmas tree. Lowe’s tag still attached (so quirky and unexpected)! Christmas ornaments still in boxes. Coming soon to an Anthropologie window display near you. 
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Every year I think, “next year I’ll do better. Next year I’ll have it together.” And then, here we are on the SIXTH Christmas that we’ve been in this house, the sixth Christmas I’ve dragged our chaotic bunch of Christmas mess out of a chaotic garage I still haven’t unpacked from our move six years ago. 
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Maybe this year is the year I’ll organize it all and put it back neatly so that by Christmas number 7, it will be smooth sailing. People will flock to my social media to see how I’ve pulled everything off SO PERFECTLY. Next year will be my year. 
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Seems every year there’s less and less bandwidth for all these things. There’s more grief and stress, less money. More demands, less grace. 
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I put this sign on the wall in my office so I could keep it in front of my eyes: Love. Joy. Peace. And all that. I am SO unlike Jesus most days. So lacking in all of these character qualities. And that’s WITH waking up most mornings and spending my first 30 minutes with God Himself. 
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How lost would I be without that? Geez. I can’t fathom. I REQUIRE being transformed by renewing my mind every single morning, and even then, responding to people and life with love, joy, peace and patience doesn’t come naturally. 
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It’s the goal, though. 
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This weary world needs that from us Believers during this season, more than ever… even more than an Anthropologie-window-display worthy Christmas home tour. 
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I’m working on both.
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