I'm for old hymns. In tiny, white churches. Simple words, sung heartfeltly. For Amazing Grace and In the Garden and the Old Rugged Cross. (Picture from trip to Switzerland)
I'm for mom and pop restaurants. Corner booths with a tiny vase holding one fresh flower. For old cash registers and waitresses who wear their hair in a bun and call you "sweetie" or darlin." (Picture from summer in San Francisco)I'm for the underdog. The David. The Cinderella story. The person who works hard and beats the odds. For going after a dream, no matter how big and unrealistic it seems. I'm for OSU. For the orange fountain on Library lawn. Late nights at the Copper Penny and Calf Fry and Tumbleweed. For midnight pancakes on finals week, for Ag Hall, and friends that became like family. I'm for Bullet and Remembering The Ten. (Photo from Bedlam)
I'm for farms. Fresh cut alfalfa fields and concrete ditches full of water. For pastures filled with cattle and the smell of leather in a tack room. For sale barn pie and county fairs. For neighborhood picnics and volunteer fire departments.
I'm for hoodies. And pajama pants. And warm blankets and fluffy duvets. For macaroni and cheese and apple spice candles. (Photo from New Year's Eve 2011)
I'm for love. For first loves and 60th anniversaries. For late night phone calls and holding hands under the table. For surprise flowers on random Tuesdays. And dancing to the radio. (Photo from Trevi Fountain during trip to Rome) I'm for family. Be it blood or the ones you choose for yourself. For people who love you and support you and are there for you no matter what. For big hugs and smacks on the back and inside jokes.