It's all Relative

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This is catfish and cornbread country. The land of sweet Southern accents. Bayous and razorbacks. John Deere and Massey-Ferguson. Where it is acceptable to wear camoflauge clothing not just in the woods, but anywhere else your feet might take you. Davy Crockett was quoted as saying, "If I could rest anywhere, it would be in Arkansas, where the men are of the real half-horse, half-alligator breed such as grows nowhere else on the face of the universal earth." Arkansas personifies the real America, where old-fashioned values run deep, where family loyalty is inbred and where many still consider a hard day's work honorable.
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Mom left Arkansas many moons ago, trading cotton fields for city living She married and had two children. Anybody from as far north as St. Louis is officially a Yankee, so my brother and I qualify for that title. When I'm down here, I have to consciously remember to tack "sir" and "ma'am" to the end of my "yesses" and nos." Though I love the country, I am a city girl at heart.

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Most of the Pennington clan still live here in the Razorback State, including Grandma, who is 90-years-young, and quite a remarkable woman. From primarily English stock, these are hard working, give-you-the-shirt-off-their-backs kind of folk. America was built on people like these and it's cool to have a blood connection with them.

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To most folks, I am really tall. But when I'm around the Penningtons, I fit right in and 5'11" does not seem one bit unusual. It's all relative! Blake is one of my second cousins. At 15, he is 6'4". Above is a picture of me with my uncles - my mom's four brothers - Kenny, Don, Denny, and Jerry. When I stand next to them, I almost feel short. Almost.

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I had a great time spending a few days during the Christmas holidays with my extended family in Pine Bluff, some of whom I had not seen for many years. It's nice that they count me as kin, even though I am a Yankee!