A few years ago, I enjoyed a very interesting Thanksgiving dinner at my in-law’s lovely home in Nashville, Tennessee. Since my husband is such the avid outdoorsman, we stay around town this time of year so he won’t be far from the hunting camp. My in-laws live on a farm, nestled between the Davidson and Williamson county line, in a hundred year old, extremely southern home with a large front porch. They purchased the land back in the eighties for next to nothing, and it is where my now husband grew up. And it is on this farm, where he developed his deep love for animals.

As this particular weekend draws to a close, I find myself thinking of the next weekend to come. For me, and many friends I know, this will include watching the Ole Miss vs. Vanderbilt football game.

This particular match up always brings up memories as I am a Mississippi native but have lived in Nashville for around fifteen years. I think of many fun road trips to the away the games in Tennessee during my college days with friends, my twenty seventh birthday in which the game fell on the exact date and resulted in quite the yard party on Belmont Boulevard in Nashville, how no matter where each team is ranked that year it usually seems to be a good game, and of course, I think of Roy Lee “Chucky” Mullins.

Growing up, I remember my mother telling me how she knew she would never marry a hunter because her own father and two brothers were always gone during prime hunting season, as if I automatically knew when this was. “They were always off hunting something,” she would say. And as my mother tends to follow through on her word, she married a non-hunter.

When my husband, Taylor, and I were dating, my dear friend Kristin would throw a Halloween party at the Greenhouse Bar in Nashville, Tennessee. I absolutely loved it, as Halloween was one of my favorite holidays. Any chance for a creative costume was right up my alley. Taylor, on the other hand, dreaded Halloween. He hated a costume. And his number one rule was no dressing like a girl, so my Judd’s idea was out the window. He would have made a perfect Winona, though.

At the beginning of the month, I made an unplanned trip back to my home town of Jackson, Mississippi, to be with a friend, who is much more like family, while we said goodbye to his saint of a mother. While it was an extremely sad time, it was also a joyful reunion and celebration of life. After the service, my mother and I made the two hour trip from Jackson back toward her home in Oxford. As we were driving, I found myself saying, “Let’s stop into the discount lumber to see if their Christmas ribbon is out yet” (a statement not uncommon to hear around those parts).

I’ve been asked recently about my website, the colors and symbols I chose. Why the blue? Why the bee? So, I thought I would explain how everything came to fruition.

Growing up in Mississippi, I always knew it was officially fall when the state fair came to town. Each year, during the first week of October, giant rides, scary fun houses, food booths filled with fried everything, and of course the towering Ferris wheel with its neon lights would magically appear on the one hundred acres of the Mississippi state fair grounds in Jackson.

I don’t know what got into my Uncle Ed’s mind to put a baby alligator in my grandmother’s pond. There were so many fish that needed to be caught! The bream and bass were happy as can be in their habitat, not worrying about the predator about to enter their world…