Saturday, August 5th, my grandparents had a small celebration for 50 years of marriage. First allow me to state that congratulations are in order for them. 50 years is no small feat. That’s half a lifetime. To make something work for that long is an achievement. I lasted 6 whole years. <_<

The event was held in the place where they grew up. Winnsboro, Texas. A little town in east Texas. I didn’t grow up there, but many memories are attached to it. I went to camp there at Deer Run, which happens to be the camp that was run by my family for many years. It also happens that every year at Thanksgiving the ENTIRE family would meet there. Lots of food, football, guns. LOL.

On the way up to this place it occurred to me that even though I hadn’t passed through this neck of the woods in somewhere close to 8 years, nothing had appeared to change. Funny thing about these small, redneck towns. VERY little changes over time. Oh sure, a new school was built, and they moved the football field. Oh, and a new Subway is in town. But for the most part, everything from my childhood memories is still in place.

Some things never change, I suppose. And some things do. In just two short years my life has changed dramatically. Places like this, however, do not. In a way it is comforting to know that some things stay the same, despite all the turmoil in this crazy whacked-out world.