Home turf

A cattail trolled from the Arkansas River

A few days ago I met a longtime friend for coffee. In selecting a place to rendezvous, I asked her to meet me at the coffee shop “by the old Wal-Mart.”

We chuckled later at these quaint directions only an insider would understand. Indeed, one of the beautiful things about coming home is the effortless way I can relax back into the familiar. There’s no second-guessing how to function in society, no wondering how to get what I need, no stomach knots as I wonder how to navigate a conversation.

Walking Little Rock’s Millennium Trail 

After 15 months, the details come back simultaneously familiar and fresh. I’d forgotten how strangers often strike up a conversation to fill the grocery store wait, the overwhelming options in the gum department, wisdom from church marquees, and living so close to nature that signs warn drivers of deer.

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The wit I mentioned above (Get it?! I snuck in the word “above”!)

Even going through the desk in my old room brought back forgotten memories.  Can you guess who coined this sarcastic beaut?

There are just not a lot of attractive women who eat roast beef on a regular basis…that’s why it’s hard to date women at Arby’s.

Yep, only those of you from home will be familiar with the restaurant my brother was referencing.

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Plenty ‘o plastic options in Conway

When I come across these quotes, when a friend makes a pun, even when I turn on the radio, I’m privy to a million inside jokes. It feels familiar, comfortable. It feels like home.

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2 Comments

  1. side note… the alcampo ziplock i was given did its job in marinating chicken for chicken fajitas… i ran out of bags before conducting more tests…

  2. Cassandra

    Good to know, maybe sturdy bags do exist…!

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