Boots and Roots

3 Jun


Ignore my sweat-drenched locks, my poor posture and the fact that the sun evaporated any makeup I had smeared on before the ceremony began. In fact, just admire how simply adorable my sweet pilot is in this picture.

Because the day I had been waiting for for the past four years finally came.

Classes seemed never ending, as did the homework and papers and other relentless assignments and projects. And now that it’s over — that graduation did happen, that I walked across that stage (and forgot to switch the tassel!) — it’s hard to think it’s complete.

Pinch me, please. Is this real?

I suppose it hasn’t sunk in yet because I haven’t actually stopped running at this mad-woman pace. Instead of lacing up my hiking boots for Oregon like I did nearly a year ago to the day, I donned my cowgirl kicks for a summer job in Nashville. A bit of a  cultural change, to say the least. And it doesn’t rain as much here, which is a bit of a downer, as I loved the rain and the beautiful forests that resulted from it.

But being in Middle Tennessee has it’s perks, such as being closer to the previously mentioned pilot (who I just happen to be getting hitched to in about 4 months!).

After a frantic home hunt and a slingshot move to the middle of the state, I admit I’ve spent the past week simply recovering from the culture shock of a new city rather than enjoying the vibrant activities of Nashvegas. But even as I write this blog, with the gentle breeze swaying the small woods outside and the frogs croaking in the distance, I can’t help but feel like a bit of home followed me here.

You can take the girl out of the country, but it seems the country doesn’t abandon the girl quite as easily.

Here’s to launching a new beginning — a remembering the roots that keep us all grounded.

Until next time,



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