Anyone who has ever lived in the state of Louisiana or has ever had to deal with any type of state department in Louisiana can detect the tone of sarcasm in the title. There are some days I literally ask God, "Really?"
We have been through some serious culture shock since we moved. "How," I ask, "do you go through culture shock when you have lived in this same place for most of your life?" I do not know the answer to this question, but I know culture shock. Greg and I both have experienced several separate occasions of this. The first time I stopped at a gas station, and I was standing in line listening to the two men in front of me...their pants: camo, their shirts: raggedy old t-shirts, their purchase: each a case of beer. I stood there listening to them talk about "them there deer" they were preparing to hunt. I was in complete awe of the situation thinking, "Seriously, OMG!" As all of you in Tennessee know, I am used to "On the Run, Exxon" where you stand in line (not for very long because they have more than one cashier) and you don't talk to anyone because you don't know them. And if you are listening to the people in front of you, they aren't talking in the most country tone you have ever heard about "them there deer." Are you getting my drift? The worst part about the whole experience: these men reminded me of my dad and uncle. They were always in line buying their beer with their cowboy hats on talking about some country something that was going on around town. I just had to laugh and wonder...? I will leave it at that.
Greg's first real culture shock was when he went to Wal-Mart as hunting season opened. He came back and said he forgot how much camouflage was a fashion statement in these parts. I about fell off the couch laughing as soon as he said it. Greg had a few comments about that, but we will leave them left unsaid.
One last culture shock moment...I was driving to Ruston several weeks ago in the middle of the week, the middle of the day. I was on a stretch of 4-lane when I looked around and realized there was not a single car behind me and only 1 in front of me AND only 1 on the other side of the road. This went on for at least 5 miles. I about freaked out. Where was all the traffic? I'm not used to no traffic. As a matter of fact, we were coming home from my sister's one night, and John Reagan said, "Mommy, those lights are in my eyes. I can't see." I cracked up. He sits on the left side so he sees the lights of all the oncoming traffic. I just said, "I know buddy, it isn't like Murfreesboro where there are street lights everywhere." We actually get to use our bright lights around here. Seriously!
Now on to the REAL soap box of this story...
Greg went to get his Louisiana Driver's License the other day. He called me so mad saying, "I hate the state of Louisiana. I just told God if He ever gives me the open door to move, we are leaving as fast as we can." I of course am cracking up thinking, "Yea, you finally understand!" There was a flag on his license from 6 years ago. Basically, because we cancelled our insurance when we moved out of state they flagged our license. Yes, that means mine too. We cannot get a Louisiana Driver's License until we prove that we registered our 2 vehicles in the state of Tennessee. The worst part...we don't even own those vehicles anymore, AND Tennessee no longer handles this type of situation over the phone. We have to send them a letter with the make, model, and year of the car, the vin number, and the name and address the car was initially registered in. Then we sit back and wait. All of this happened 2 days before our insurance expired. We couldn't get it renewed with our Tennessee provider because we no longer live there, and we couldn't get it with Farm Bureau here without a Louisiana driver's license and vehicle license. Progressive wanted to charge us more than double what we already pay. We did finally get insurance and will be able to swap over to who we want to use once we get all the other mess straightened out. I had to wait a week to write this blog, so I wouldn't have to bleep myself from all the frustration. Trust me when I say this blog is very light-hearted compared to what I really want to say.
I will leave my soap box for some pictures now.
Evie's hair is growing so fast. Her pig-tails are filling out.
John Reagan helping Pawcaw fry fish, apron and all.
John Reagan holding Annie and getting some love at the same time.
Evie has discovered the portable DVD player. She LOVES it!
John Reagan in a mountain of bubbles.
This picture is for you Kristin. Rooting for LSU! Too bad they completely and totally screwed up this past weekend.
Evie is still not walking on her own. She has taken A step, but that's it. She will walk behind her little walker, and she will walk holding on to 1 of our fingers. But not on her own. For some reason when she gets tired of crawling on her knees or when her dress won't allow her to crawl, this is her method of getting around.
Daddy walking his little girl. 
FYI: The beard is gone, and he's back to the usual looking Greg. Thank God!Through this move I have seen the boxes we place around ourselves. I sit back and watch people who have no clue about life outside of their immediate surroundings and situation. We have had several people tell us we were coming back home as missionaries, but my question is, "How is that possible?" I can't seem to push myself out of the little box I have placed around myself with our current situation. I allow frustration and emotion and even fear to rule my every moment instead of looking beyond me to the needs of others. What other boxes do I live in that I don't see? What about the boxes you live in?
