{Small towns and smart phones don't mix.}
We are becoming regular towner's in Pine, Arizona.
In fact- Mr. Patterson has dedicated two graves in the past two months.
This is an event the whole town attends.
Afterwards we {the town} enjoyed a lovely luncheon held at the Randall's quaint house.
The Randall women are stellar.
They raise handsome, hardworking, god fearing cowboy's.
They make the most delicious soups and salads served on heirloom china in the sunroom.
We sat close to one another, told stories and sipped cider from mason jars.
I watched my children play in the fall leaves through the window.
They were happy, healthy and carefree.
I remembered being a child and playing under the huge cottonwood trees in our front yard.
My father would hand us all a rake, we worked for hours making one big pile.
Then, he would throw us in and Andrew would crunch them in my hair.
I watched Kingston do the same to his sisters.
It felt like home.
And someday my bones will be buried there.
