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.

Crossing the Courtois

Two weeks ago I set out to hike the Ozark Trail from Onondaga Cave State Park to the Narrows Trail Head. This section of the Courtois (pronounced code-a-way) Section of the Ozark Trail is considered mile 0-7.6, and fair warning: it involves a “creek” crossing that’s more like a river expedition. For the full story, you should pick up the April issue of River Hills Traveler, but the short story is this: The Courtois Creek is not just a creek – it’s a large creek. It’s a creek that, on a map, looks roughly the same width as the Meremac River.

I can imagine that crossing the Courtois in the heat of Missouri summer would have felt great…refreshing…awesome. Crossing the creek in early March on a 40-degree day was chilly…bitter…freezing. The first five miles or so of the hike – from Onondaga Cave State Park to the Courtois Creek – wasn’t bad. The highest elevation was approximately 900 feet, and much of the trail was wide and gravel-covered. There were some fun rock formations and cliffs, and even a few small springs and caves. There’s a beautiful pine glade several miles into the hike that would make a lovely picnic spot, but beware that in the late summer months, there are also spiders as big as your head. *** I estimate that I’ve now hiked somewhere around 45 miles of the Ozark Trail’s 350 total miles. Fore more posts about my Ozark Trail adventures, see my Ozark Trail page. For longer, print stories on my Ozark Trail expeditions, pick up the February or April issues of River Hills Traveler.

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

In the next forty-eight hours, Southern Missouri is anticipating the usually icy winter mix. In honor of Missouri winters, I thought I’d share my favorite Winter 2010 Missouri snow picture.

I took this at Sunnen Lake, outside of Potosi, Missouri in Washington County. Potosi is a town of approximately 2,500 people, and this particular shot was taken at a YMCA of the Ozarks boat dock.

Snowy Lake, photo by MilliGFunk

If small town life were like the Girl Scouts, this small town girl would be boasting a Jeepin’ badge after her adventures last weekend with said small town man in his big yellow Jeep.

4WD, photo by smalltowngirl

What started out as a scenic drive down county roads turned into a drive straight down this steep, snowy hill and onto an embankment in the middle of the lake, below.

The white that you see in the picture below is ice on the lake, not snow on the ground.

On the Lake, photo by smalltowngirl

The lake was only the beginning of the adventure. My pictures may not do justice to the jaunts we took into the woods, where small town man called “roads” things that looked to me like narrow walking paths.

Tree limbs scraped down the sides of the Jeep’s body and across its soft top as we eased our way through the trees.

"My iPhone says there's a road here", photo by smalltowngirl

As we tried to find our way out of the woods, the small town man used the GPS on his iPhone to lead the way while this small town girl used her small town country girl instinct.

“My iPhone says that Highway C is straight ahead,” said the small town man.

Moments later, the small town couple came to a locked gate and a “No Trespassing” sign, and this girl teased the small town man relentlessly as she munched the deer sausage and cheese her small town, deer-huntin’ dad had shared with them.

A Small Town Snack, photo by smalltowngirl

The grit and the bright lights of New York City are still in this small town girl’s heart, but days like this one are like an anthropological expedition into this small town girl’s roots in Small Town Missouri.

There’s a time for high heels and sushi, and there’s a time for deer sausage and Jeepin’. Thank goodness there have been enough days in this small town girl’s life to experience some of both.

Farmers Market, photo by smalltowngirl

The vendors had beautiful produce, not limited to squash, zucchini, apples and peppers. I’ve written previously about the Farmington Farmers Market, but I was more impressed by the Washington County market than I was by the Farmington Market.

Washington County Farmers Market, photo by smalltowngirl

My favorite vendor was a Washington County farmer who taught me something I didn’t know; that green peppers eventually turn either red or yellow if left to grow long enough. Who knew?

mulit-colored peppers, photo by smalltowngirl

***

The Washington County Farmers Market is held from June through October. On Saturdays, the market is held from 7:30 a.m. to noon at the Washington County Court House, and on Wednesdays the market is held from 7:30 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. at the County Health Department.

MilliGFunkyCorn, photo by the Independent Journal

You’ll note that I’m in good company with my corn on the cob. (Willie Nelson Dude’s braids were fake, by the way. They were attached to the bandanna. I was disappointed.)

Photo scanned from the Independent Journal, Washington County Missouri’s local paper.

Why dress a dog in a skirt? Because it’s hiLARious.

Dogs in dresses, photo by smalltowngirl

The only thing funnier than a dog in a skirt is a male dog dressed in pink sparkles:

Cross-dressing puppy, photo by smalltowngirl

And the only thing funnier than a boy dog in pink sparkles is a boy dog in a pink skirt.

These first two pictures were from the Moses Austin Festival, but I also saw dressed up dogs yesterday at the Fall Festival in Farmington. One of those dogs was, in fact, a boy dog in a pink, sparkly dress.

Unfortunately, I missed that photo opportunity. To compensate, here’s a dog dressed as the Scarecrow from Wizard of Oz:

Scarecrow dog, photo by smalltowngirl

I used to think that New York City was more liberal than rural Missouri. Now I think Missourians are just taking their closet-liberal leanings out on their unsuspecting canine pals.

Upon embarkation of my Richwoods, Missouri fire engine expedition, I would never have expected to feel my breath catch in my throat at anything architectural in this unincorporated community. At the end of my self-tour of Richwoods, however, I happened upon St. Stephen Roman Catholic Church.

St. Stephen Roman Catholic, photo by smalltowngirl

There was something about this white frame church, in Richwoods since 1841, that simply took my breath away.  Some combination of the completely blank hillside behind the church, the single large tree in the yard, and the stone pillars on either side of the main sidewalk added an historic and almost ghostly air to the church, and I found myself treading lightly on the grass as I took my photographs.

Entrance, photo by smalltowngirl

***

Richwoods, Missouri is located between Sullivan and Hillsboro, Missouri, in Washington County, on Highway A/Y, off of Missouri Highway 47.

Richwoods, MO Ford F750 Fire Engine

Richwoods, MO Ford 850 Fire Engine

Richwoods, MO Cadillac Ambulance (Ghostbusters car style)

Richwoods, MO Yellow and Orange Fire Trucks

Fire Engine Self Portraits

Richwoods, MO Mack Truck Fire Engine

Richwood, MO Playing with Shadows