Thursday, June 9, 2011
Blog on the Range
I spent seven years in a place called Dripping Springs, Texas. We had goats that lived in a barn at our high school, there was a barbecue smoker directly outside the biology hall, and the Ag. teacher had students shoot and bring in dead squirrels for the annual taxidermy fiesta. It was a colorful time in my life, and although it goes against everything I believed when I was actually living there, I sort of miss it from time to time and a faint, mesquite-scented poof of longing emits from the nostalgia lobe of my brain. This sometimes manifests itself in an insatiable desire to draw armadillos. So that's pretty much what I did.