It’s when I look at how much further I’ve come personally and professionally since leaving Brooklyn that I realize how much time has passed. Then I hoped to someday have readers enjoy my writing. Now I have the opportunity to write not only on A Small Town Girl’s Guide, but for other online and print publications, too.

Then I hoped to someday build a stronger relationship with my family. Now I get to go to Cardinals games with my dad or go to dinner mid-week with my mom. Then I dreamed of someday being in a place to begin planning for a future that included my own home and my own family. Each day I find myself coming closer to those goals, too.

When I saw my first guest post on the Missouri Division of Tourism blog, VisitMoBistro, this morning, I had that familiar feeling of time tricking me. On one hand, it felt like I’d just move to Missouri recently, but on the other hand, I realized that it was almost a year ago when the Missouri Division of Tourism staff and I discussed – for the first time – me writing guest posts for their blog.

I hope you enjoy reading my first post on the Division of Tourism’s blog, and I also hope that as you read it, you’ll remember that not so long ago, sharing my writing with people was still just a dream. Now that dream is real. What do you hope to do someday? Maybe now’s a good day to start working towards those goals.

On today’s walk, Rosie and I encountered the usual squirrels and birds. When geese began to honk our way, Rosie’s excitement was nearly uncontrollable.  It was when I looked toward the geese that I noticed the bald eagle soaring above our heads twenty yards or so ahead. It elegantly swept down from the sky towards the lake, wings spread wide and white head & feet clearly visible.

As we continued our walk, Rosie chased a few more squirrels, a number of bugs, and a butterfly. As we approached the end of our walk, she darted forward to explore what I quickly realized was a baby snake. After yanking her leash back to keep her away from the snake, I picker her up in my arms and stood very still.

The snake didn’t move, so I edged around the snake, trying not to disturb it. Once I realized the snake had been killed, my curiosity got the better of me. I snapped a few pictures, and I’d tried researching Missouri snakes online. The only success I achieved in my research was to give myself the heeby-jeebies.

I ruled out rattle snakes, green snakes, black snakes, king snakes, and copperheads. It’s not a worm snake, a scarlet snake, a garter snake, or a yellow-bellied racer. I don’t think it’s a rat snake, a fox snake, a mud snake or a hog-nosed snake. It’s definitely not a coachwhip or a red milk snake, and it really doesn’t look like any of the water snakes I read about.

Do you know what kind of snake this is? My curiosity has the better of me, so I’d love to know what kind of snake you think this might be:

Baby snake in Small Town MO

Baby Snake in Small Town, MO

I think it’s fair to say that the average person would assume life in Brooklyn to be far more thrilling and way more dangerous than life in a Missouri town of just over 2,500 people.  On the average day in said tiny Missouri town, the average person’s assumption might be accurate.

Today, however, was no average day.

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Today was the first day of the month. Today was also April Fool’s Day. And today, I attempted to go to the local Wal-Mart Supercenter mid-day instead of going to Wal-Mart at my usual 10:00 p.m (or later).

My first near-miss was the tall, skinny gentleman with the little boy, walking European-like on the wrong side of the aisle. As I approached, they were walking in the center of the aisle, but as I got closer to them, they suddenly veered directly in front of me.

I’ve heard stories of deer doing this when they see headlights. Once the deer has already crossed the rural highway, it sees headlights over its shoulder, freaks out, does a 180, and leaps directly into the trajectory of the giant hunk of metal hurling itself down the highway.

Evolution eliminates the dumbest animals. If only shopping carts did the same.

My second near-miss were the two pre-teen girls who did exactly the same thing! They darted in front of my cart, ducked into the aisle to my immediate right, and slid around me as the resumed their original path.

It occurred to me that these girls were either not very smart or not aiming for efficiency.

I  paid for my things and exited the store. I used the pedestrian cross-walk to move from the building to the row where my car was parked. I noticed that a car coming down the row was beginning to move faster.

The closer I got to the intersection, the more the older lady in the red Chrysler accelerated. The woman drove out of her lane and through a parking spot, accelerating as we approached me. She whizzed past me, an arm’s length or less away, as she ran the stop sign and drove into the cross walk.

She had nearly run me over.

Annoyed, I huffed and puffed to my car, anxious to get safely to the comforts of Rosie and our cozy little cabin. I pulled out of my parking spot and headed down the row just in time for a 20-something boy to come remarkably close to ripping off the front of my car as he cut across my lane to make a left-hand turn into my row.

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I think it’s fair to say that the average person would assume life in Brooklyn to be far more thrilling and way more dangerous than life in a Missouri town of just over 2,500 people.  On the average day in said tiny Missouri town, the average person’s assumption might be accurate.

Today, however, was no average day.

Ground Bison Meat, photo taken with my iPhone4

From there, my mom took over, making a fantastic meatloaf from Sayersbrook’s meat, mashed potatoes, salad, and vegetables. The whole family enjoyed the meal.

Meat. Photo taken with my iPhone4

My dad (the son of a cattle farmer) commented that the meat wasn’t dry like he anticipated it might be. My brother and mom commented on the good flavor, and I just sat back smiling, feeling good about how healthy it was (bison is very nearly fat free). It also felt great knowing that I bought meat produced by a local ranch and sold in a locally-owned grocery store.

When’s the last time you fed your family locally-grown food? Are there any local farms that you would recommend?

The site, devoted to creating a “home on the web for Missouri’s Parkland” was founded by a Parkland-area native now living and working the Washingon D.C. Metro Area. Some of you may already follow Nick (@nbarron) on twitter, but if you don’t, you should. Nick is a a small town boy who’s taking what he’s learned on the East Coast about marketing and building online communities to create a web-based community for the Parkland that’s the first of its kind.

People like Nick who are prepared to devote their personal resources to making small town Missouri communities stronger are the kind of people I like to surround myself with.

I couldn’t be happier that Nick and I have remained friends for more than a decade after we met in high school Spanish class. I’m thrilled to be able to support Nick’s endeavors on ParklandUSA by contributing photos and blog content to the site.

If you live in or near Missouri’s Parkland, please visit the site often for gas prices, sports updates, and, of course, insights and images from A Small Town Girl’s Guide and MilliGFunk Photography. You can read the announcement Nick posted on ParklandUSA about syndicating Small Town Girl’s Guide here.

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If you’re interested in republishing content from A Small Town Girl’s Guide through syndication, please contact me. Click on the following links for more information on hiring me as a freelance writer or as a freelance photographer. I’m also available to speak on social media strategy, blogging and marketing.

Sometimes I intentionally take a different route home because I know that my emotional constitution that day won’t allow me to handle these provocations with any sort of grace at all. Most days, I’m both irritated by and perplexed by the sign, and fascinated by the people who chose to put it there.

I’d like to talk with them about how much confusion is created by poor spelling and punctuation.

But kind of like when I was living in Asia and had to learn to accept that translations from Mandarin to English could be rough, I realize that the owners didn’t write what they meant to write. They mean to say “YOU’RE FORGIVEN”.

I want to talk to them about good marketing.

If you use poor grammar or misspell words in your marketing deliverables, your credibility disappears. If you can’t spell “you’re” correctly on a sign, why should anyone trust you to know about anything as big and complicated as forgiveness? You’ve just given all the educated people who drive past your house one more reason to be freaked out by religion. You’ve not made the case for God – you’ve detracted from it.

I’d like to talk with them about trees.

If you took a beautiful gift from me, cut it up, painted it a different color, put some cheesy, badly-spelled words on it, and then said “READ SMALL TOWN GIRL’S GUIDE” on it, I wouldn’t be flattered.

God gave you beautiful trees in a huge forest, and you cut His trees down, painted them a different color, and placed misspelled words on them. Then you put his name on the other side of the sign (“THINK GOD”), as if you’re doing him an honor. I wonder what God thinks when he sees your ugly sign, and I wonder if he misses the trees you cut down to build it.

I’d also like to talk with them about good manners.

There are days when I feel like every church in Missouri has something clever to say, some big new sign in their front yard on which they tell me what God’s like or who God is or how tiny I am in comparison to him. I want to tell those churches that their signs are blocking an otherwise magnificent view of the deep rolling hills God graced Washington County with.

I want to tell them that my hour-long commutes are my conversations with God, and that their all-capital-letter, screaming signs are interrupting us. I want to tell them that God already reminds me of my own smallness with his wall-shaking, teeth-rattling claps of thunder on hot Missouri summer afternoons.

I wonder who’s smarter; the neighbor who can’t spell “you’re” or the neighbor who somehow missed the fact that the Civil War ended 150 years ago.

I wonder which came first; the FORGIVEN sign or the flag.

I wonder how anyone could think that a sign at the foot of their driveway could save someone’s soul or direct them to God.

I wonder a lot of things, and no matter how much I try, I can’t force myself to make any excuses for rural Missouri this time.

On a recent trip to YMCA Trout Lodge in Potosi, Missouri, I had the pleasure of taking part in a Cowboy Campfire at the YMCA’s Triangle Y Ranch. Triangle Y Ranch has a mascot of sorts; a dummy named Chavez who has an amazing mustache. Chavez and I bonded, so he let me borrow his ‘stache.

Here’s me, with my new man, Chavez. If you’re in a city somewhere, have a margarita for me tonight!

MilliGFunk and Chavez

Small town Missouri simply doesn’t stop surprising me. On a recent visit to Washington State Park in DeSoto, Missouri, I learned that Missouri is home to 500-2,000-year-old petroglyphs created by Native Americans. Washington State Park is one of only two parks in Missouri that holds such carvings. The Missouri State Parks website says that the carvings were likely created at around 1,000 A.D.

I’m no expert on rock carvings or Native American history, so my perspective on these petroglyphs is 100% laymen; these things are rockin’. (I’m so clever, hehe). According to mostateparks.org, Washington State Park is home to the largest group of petroglyphs in Missouri, and helped earn the park a place on the National Register of Historic Places.

I’m accustomed to Missouri’s State Parks having good trails, nice fishing areas, and even camp sites. I truly had no idea that any of our parks had petroglyphs, and I drive past Washington State Park as often as two or three times per week.

If you’re interested in learning more about Missouri State Parks and the petroglyhps in Washington State Park, I recommend taking a look at the Missouri State Parks homepage.

Okay, that may be a slight exaggeration, but it’s not far from the truth. When I saw this sign, I immediately found a driveway in which to turn around.

This small town landowner knows how to make light of life in rural Missouri…

Good Place, photo by MilliGFunk