Confession

Confession: Last week, in the grocery store check-out line, I purchased my second issue of Garden & Gun.

To be clear, my position on guns has not changed.  I understand guns for hunting, and I can support that, with sufficient regulation.  The idea that guns should not be traceable is ridiculous.  Guns for non-hunting civilian pleasure are a recipe for mayhem, and Americans are not proving worthy of the responsibility.

However, Garden & Gun is good.  It feels similar to my favorite Twin Cities publication, Metro Magazine.  It is a fresh and hip report of southern food and lifestyle, and is proving to be a handy resource.  Aside from advertisements, articles about guns are far outnumbered compared to lifestyle, food, and culture articles.  The only reason I haven't yet subscribed is that we are still in the throes of finalizing next year's address.  Stay tuned.

In the meantime, in spite of August weather that drags me down, alligators in garages, and over-abundances of churches, guns and crazy Tea Party people, Texas is creeping into me.  I'm happy here.  How can you not love a place that harbors such enthusiasm for chili peppers and cowboy boots?  I even like the little lizards that skitter around on the sidewalks when I run past.

For whatever reason, I'm in.  The call of home was strong, but living there at this stage would mean significant separation from my husband, and for now, we like it here enough that it doesn't seem worth signing up for that unless we have to.  Luckily, it doesn't feel like a sacrifice to settle in right here for a bit.