“Birds of a feather flock together”… I cannot tell you how many times I heard my Momma say this. Sometimes, it was about me and my friends. Sometimes, it would be about people who were busy talking about others behind their backs. Then there were those times it was about the choices she had made.
I am blessed beyond measure. I have wonderful friends and folks in my life and if I was to be judged by others on my friends, I would be proud to be one of them.  But as a girl with sometimes a blind eye, deaf ear, and generous spirit, I pick up a few birds that aren’t of my feather.
I spent the weekend with some folks that are truly some of the best people I have ever known. They have smiles, and arms outstretched before you get even within hugging distance. They really want to know how you are. They actually take the time to listen. They give genuine compliments and are just as genuinely pleased to see you. It’s not just my sweet friend or her awesome husband of almost 30 years, but their amazing children are just as nice.
We were able to spend a few days with these folks, and their kids and their new grand-baby, and all of their lifelong truest friends. And more than any other statement I could make about my most fun filled weekend… but “Birds of a feather flock together”!!!!
I am so fortunate to be able to call them friends, and now to add all these other wonderfully welcoming and genuine people to my circle. A girl couldn’t ask for more. I sat yesterday morning watching as my friends were able to greet more folks as they arrived to wish a happy birthday. And to be met with smiles from ear to ear and arms outstretched and great conversation and banter is something downright indescribable.
I left my weekend and as we headed up the interstate my smile was still brimming and my heart was still full. My laughter was still spilling over from my soul and lips. My eyes were still a bit watery from constant laughter and jokes and just good old fashion “ribbing”.
If these are my birds then I sure am lucky to be a part of this flock. I hope I am able to fly as high and shine as bright as these wonderful people. I hope I can love others as wonderfully and lovingly as they do. I hope I can be the kind of friend they are and have the kind of friends they have that drive a few hours just to be in their presence. Just to feel the bond and love and hugs they give. To see them look you in the eye and hold you a bit longer than others do so you know you are special to them.
I hear all the time how things are bigger in Texas. Well, friends, I am here to tell you if friendship counts then it’s a fact. My friends are from deep in the heart of Texas and they have a kinship that reaches far beyond our state borders. They are like a glass of sweet tea on an August evening after the yard was mowed and the sweet smell of grass fills the air. With kids down the block playing a last ditch effort of dodge ball before it’s too dark to see and you can hear their giggles, laughter, screams and shrill voices fill the air. It’s a welcomed event that is missed and treasured… that’s exactly how I felt as I lay down last night after having been able to spend this precious time in their presence. Like a bird that takes flight and knows the winds cannot push us down as long as we flock together.

About The Author:  Barbie Driskell (Aunt B) was raised in the shade of pine trees of East Texas. “I am very proud of my roots,  just like a pine tree, may not be deep but they sure take over when left to their own devices. I smile frequently, laugh genuinely and live simply.”

Recently, I was telling about my little nephew, Justin. He has one of those personalities… you know the kids that are born, drink a bottle or two and all of sudden you look at him he is wearing a ball cap, a watch and belt with his boots and jeans… he speaks, walks and talks like a grown man. Justin is that kind of kid… an “old soul” is how my Moma would have described him. At one of his birthday parties, he sat at the head of the table opening his mountain of gifts… he relishes in the attention, I might add. He opened a large bag full of tissue paper and with total delight and animation, he pulls out a Captain America shield and with all the excitement a 7 year old could muster her turned to PawPaw and said, “Oh, thank you!!! I have waited my whole life for one of these!!!” I was sitting in his room one afternoon with him (he was sitting in his recliner… I told you he is a grown man) I was sitting on the floor next to him as we watched one of his DVD’s and I noticed his Captain America shield in his toy box… I said, “There’s that cool shield, we should play with it”. He responded, “Nah”.
How many times have we longed, prayed, obsessed, waited our whole lives for something… then we get it and it ain’t nearly as fabulous as we thought? Growing up as little girls we played house. We had imaginary husbands who brought us flowers picked from the neighbor’s flower beds, our dreamboat of a husband worked a good job and drove a truck and his favorite food was M&M’s and Dr. Pepper, just like ours. We waited our whole lives to grow up and to marry the most fabulous man in the whole wide world. And then darn it, those men don’t want to eat M&M’s and Dr. Pepper for dinner every night… and as it turns out, the neighbors don’t like anyone picking their flowers!!! I have waited on what I thought would be the perfect job and prayed and begged God to grant it to me. I get this most wonderful job in the whole world and then… well, then there is the stress associated with the responsibility of the world’s best job! I have drooled over shoes in catalogs, saved my pennies and painted my toe nails the perfect shade of pink to look good in those stylish shoes… finally, buy them and wear them and I was left with 5 bleeding blisters and shoes I could not wear!
Why do we long and pray and want things so bad then when we get them, they aren’t nearly as great as we thought? I was listening to a lady at the gas station this morning telling her grandson… He isn’t appreciative. He was asking for a bottled drink and she was explaining as kindly as a grandmother can at 7:15am that he has those very same ones in the pantry. He said but they are in cans. I want a bottle.
We are the same way, we get exactly what we want but it still isn’t good enough… get a perfectly good watch, it ticks, tells time, looks stylish, but it’s silver and now I want gold. I have a perfectly good family, but I see the lady at the store with 3 little girls all dressed in ladybug dresses, matching sandals and hair bows… and I would trade in all the boys in my family for those sweet girls.
What happened to us? When did we become so unsatisfied? When was GREAT and getting exactly what we wanted not enough? I bet that is what Jesus thought… the Pharisees waited for the Messiah, he shows up and they turn their back… “Hmmph”… “Not exactly the Messiah we wanted”.
I am going to go home today and look around at things I worked hard for and dust them and appreciate them and I might even wear those shoe while I dust… I plan on doing it with socks (bleeding blisters aren’t pretty)… but I am going to be more thankful for all I have been given… I want to have an attitude of gratitude… starting now… and I want to drop by and play with Justin’s Captain America shield, too.

Aunt B
About The Author:  Barbie Driskell (Aunt B) was raised in the shade of pine trees of East Texas. “I am very proud of my roots,  just like a pine tree, may not be deep but they sure take over when left to their own devices. I smile frequently, laugh genuinely and live simply.”

My last name was given to me upon birth into this world. It was passed to me from my dad on that eventful day. As I lay sleeping in my mother’s arms my dad signed all the necessary paperwork welcoming me to his last name and my family. Growing up as little girls, we planned and dreamed of the man we would marry and the wives we would become and as a bride surrender our last name for the honor of accepting a new one.
On July 27, 2002, I accepted my last name. It was the greatest gift I have ever received. I am very proud of it and have listened to hours and hours of stories from the family members who also bestow the gifted name. I know where the blood line comes from and how the name transformed over the years to the current spelling. I know the people that have signed it on documents, checks, and love letters. I am chosen to carry it behind my first name.
In our daily grind, I don’t believe we even give a second thought to our name. We don’t think of the importance or gift bestowed upon us from our parents or spouse as to feel us so worthy to share something so very personal as a name.
Growing up in our neck of the woods folks around town referred to us as the “Palmer” kids. Most of the little old ladies in church called me the “oldest Palmer” girl. Never once did I realize the importance of belonging to a family or having a last name.
My last name means more than a form of identity… it means family. It signifies everyone with this name is my people… my gang… my partners… my family. It means I will have people that back me up, pick me up, and help me up. It means I have other people to count on and who count on me. It means I belong somewhere in the world that others don’t. It means I am exclusive and important. I have role in this life and I have assumed full responsibility by accepting my last name.
My father-in-law teased me upon entering into the correctional field of work that my last name stood for something, and to leave it the same as I found it. I know he meant that he, his father, my husband, my brother –in-laws, my mother-in-law had all built a solid reputation in this field. I knew he meant he was confident in me and that I would be successful and add to the fortitude of OUR last name. I knew the value of our last name to him and his three sons and his father before him. I was proud to have it and very excited to honor him by doing my paramount best.
I watched my brother in September of 1996 accept his bride into our family by placing a ring on her finger a kiss on her lips and giving her our father’s last name. I saw the pride in my brother’s face as his shook his father-in-law’s hand and thanked him for such a beautiful woman to marry. I have watched them make a family, a home, a love that will surpass the ages and pass on their name to two of the most fun filled boys I have ever met. Two young men who will grow up and bring honor and dignity to the last name they carry. I know one day I will sit in a church like I did that day and watch my nephews pass their name onto their chosen brides. I will get to see them give these special young women a ring, a kiss and a last name they have cherished and valued. I hope the future generations understand the hard work, the pride, and the love that is contained… all in a last name.

About The Author:  Barbie Driskell (Aunt B) was raised in the shade of pine trees of East Texas. “I am very proud of my roots,  just like a pine tree, may not be deep but they sure take over when left to their own devices. I smile frequently, laugh genuinely and live simply.”

Here in East Texas we are quite familiar with the pesky fire ant! It builds mounds in anyone’s yard. Whether you are the First Baptist preacher with a pristine yard or the people with 3 dogs tied out back and a pile of beer cans next to your back steps… a fire ant will build a nice housing complex. They go up about as quick as any construction crew with a lot less equipment.
There is something magical about watching them build and remodel their dirt homes. As a little girl, I couldn’t stop myself from poking sticks in the fire ant mounds to try and find the queen. Even now as an adult I feel the need to kick them down and by now I am aware I will be bit. And the ants stick together. If one bites you, then 30 more will before you get the first one clawed away.
Why is like that? Why do we know the outcome yet we still kick the fire ant mound? I am completely aware of the affect it will have on me, the fire ants and the fact they will rebuild next door. They don’t have a problem in the world moving around the metropolis of my yard. I can bait them up, come out the next evening they have moved the entire Ant Apartment complex to a better spot closer to the pool. (a much better view)
Just like in life, we know if we make a rash decision the outcome will not be so good.  Yet, we stand there, stick in hand, and poke away at the mound, and run like we caught fire when we are bit. I did that just the other day. I poked and poked and poked, then wham!!! The bite!!
I knew the outcome wasn’t going to be what I wanted, but I could not stop myself from poking the issue with my words. I just had to speak them. I felt the need to verbalize what shouldn’t have been thought, much less spoken from my lips!!! There I sat next to a mound, knowing very well, I have been here before, and faced this decision of poking and prodding for the queen ant, or walking away and letting Mother-Nature take care of things. I knew that I would be bit and then jump around and ran in a circle and slapped at the bites.
This way of thinking is called a cognitive bias. What that means to me and you… annoying glitches in our thinking that causes us to make questionable decisions and reach flawed conclusions. Scientists say a human brain has the ability to process 10 to the 16th power per second, which makes the brain far more powerful than any computer in existence. But there I stood in my yard kicking over a fire ant mound.
The lowly calculator can do math far better than me, and my memory is often less than useless, but scientist believe we are the superior beings. Sometimes, I just have to beg to differ. I almost think the fire ant is smarter. He doesn’t attack anyone unless he is first attacked. He never bothers with a real estate agent, just moves the entire colony effectively and efficiently, not leaving one marching ant soldier behind. And above all else, they believe in protecting the queen, even if it means death.
Then out of nowhere… pops up a bored to death… I mean I could see buzzards circling over head… human… and I decide I must poke the fire ant mound with my stick that they are actually able to climb before I decide to throw it!
So, if we are so smart, we have invented computers, calculators and are at the top of the food chain, I must wonder… why did I do it in the first place?

About The Author:  Barbie Driskell (Aunt B) was raised in the shade of pine trees of East Texas. “I am very proud of my roots,  just like a pine tree, may not be deep but they sure take over when left to their own devices. I smile frequently, laugh genuinely and live simply.”