An East Tennessee Swang

One thing I love about our home is the freedom that lives within.  I enjoy so much the multitude of costumes and story lines that play out inside these 4 walls of us.  There are days when the sun sets and I  never really securely knew what the boys' official clothing was for that given day due to the super hero battles fought, the buried treasure found, or the bad buys behind bars cuffed & stuffed.

Their life back stage in the dressing room preparing to play will be, without a doubt, one of my fondest memories in this little boy season of my life.

They play.  Unbeknownst to the world around them.  Oblivious to the backyard being just a backyard.  Carefree of anything but intense imagination.

And, that imagination can change on a dime too. You see, cowboys need to golf.  Yes, it's imperative that a sheriff and deputy take time to get in a few holes.  

Cowboys work dilligently on a sweet, smooth swing too.
And, when cowboys can't find it?  Well, up here in East Tennessee, we whack the fire {pronounced "far"} out of the ball.  Yes, pound the little dimpled lovie into submission until it ignites into the air.
And, East Tennessee cowboys, do it all with swag too.

You know, like they were born to do this.

All in days work.

Yes, I love this little boy season in my life.

.mac :)

{week 33}