Saturday, August 31, 2013


As ideas were bouncing around my head for a post this week, it occurred to me to pull out my phone and see what I had taken pictures of over the last week.  Having an iPhone has made it way too easy to snap pictures of little things that strike my fancy throughout the day.  It's actually a nifty visual journal of where my mind stops and rests throughout the week. 

As I perused my pics, two things occurred to me that I might write about.  Then I realized that they had a common thread - hometowns.  Last weekend we stopped by the hot air balloon festival where my husband grew up.  Technically he was born in Germany where his father was stationed in the military and didn't move back to the states until he was two.  He'll never be president because of this, but he's too honest to be a politician anyway.  We've been going to this annual festival for the past five years.  It's funny that my husband never went as he was growing up.  I heard something about it on the radio five years ago and mentioned it to him.  He said, "Oh, yeah, they have that every year.  I've never been.  We should go."  We live about 35 miles from where he (mostly) grew up and graduated from high school. 

There's always a large craft festival and flea market there, but we don't always go for that.  We've done it in the past, and it is lots of fun.  What we make sure we never miss is the hot air balloon launch at the airport.

Last year's launch

And two years ago in front of Nemo...
Trying to spot all the balloons from the guide...
Our daughter took this one...
Beautiful, no?
We got there a little later than we usually do this year.  Our daughter had a football game to cheer at, so we only made it for the night glow this year.  They usually have one character shaped balloon each year.  We always try to guess what it will be.  This year they had two.

This guy...
and Peg Leg Pete
I wanted one picture with the kids in it.  It was dark so it's not the best.  At least I got it.  I'm thinking we need a new, fancy camera...
Now as for my hometown...
This weekend was my 25th high school reunion.  No, I didn't go.  It's really not my kind of thing (see the name of my blog).  I ended up in my hometown (also about 35 miles away from us in a different direction) this week anyway.  My brothers are both musicians and songwriters on the side.  Although I play a little piano and guitar, I am the Ashley Judd to their Naomi and Winona.  LOL.  They've teamed up of late and have had a couple of gigs.  I was able to make it to this one.  I'm not a big go out during the week person, but I can usually manage a Thursday with the weekend in sight.
Older and younger bros rocking it out - I'm the middle child and only girl.
My older brother has recently put out a CD of original songs.  You can check out one of my favorites of his here.  His return to songwriting and sharing it with others actually partially inspired my return to writing and beginning my blog.  I really admire someone who is brave enough to put original work out into the world.  It's a scary proposition sometimes. 
He wrote a song about the town where we grew up on his new CD called City of Roses.  One of the lyrics from it is, "I have no love affair with my hometown/Still, it's fair to say I hate to see them beaten down."  I feel similar about my hometown -somewhat scornful and partially protective.  I never wanted to live there after I left home.  But there is a feeling of going home there for me. My parents and other family still live there.  I'm lucky to have that. 
I think a lot of people have ideas, maybe some judgments, about you when they hear where you grew up.  My hometown probably doesn't impress anyone.  It might do exactly the opposite sometimes.   Another of my favorite songwriters put it just so about his hometown, "I grew up a Catholic boy/In a northeastern state/A place when asked where you from/Some people tend to hesitate/ Reply a little bit late/As if maybe you didn't rate."  Yeah, I've had people give me that look when I tell them where I grew up.  For better of for worse, where you grew up shapes who you are, but it doesn't define who you become unless you let it.


1 comment:

  1. This balloon festival looks great, my son would love this! So fun about your musician brothers too!