The Good Ol’ Days

“The ‘Grey-Haired Brigade’ visit and enjoy good country cooking each Friday night at the Depot Cafe”

Hey y’all! How is everyone on this fine Monday? Well, okay…it may not be fine for some of you. Actually, I’d like to stay home after the beating my body took from mowing on Saturday. I was okay until yesterday. Feel like I been shot at and missed and…well, you know the rest. Achy breaky body is the tune of the day.

Anyway, while I was being a layabout yesterday, I decided to flip through the March edition of the Frisco Style Magazine that’s been cluttering up my nightstand for a few days and ran across a very cool article by one of the regular contributors, Bob Warren. He also happens to be a local historian and former mayor of Frisco, TX. What attracted me was the content because these days, it’s all too easy to hit a drive-thru to take dinner home or run by the neighborhood Little Caesar’s for their $5 pepperoni pizza. Not only that, back in the day (as we say now), we all ate what could be construed as a heavy breakfast but in those days, you needed plenty of fuel to mend the fences, feed the cattle and run the farm.  I should know.

See, my brothers and I spent some time on a huge 1,440 acre farm when we first moved from Nebraska to Missouri and it was the best thing my parents could have done. They needed time to fix up the house they bought , so all three of us kids packed up and headed to Schell City to stay with our family friends, the Windles. Mind you, they got up at 5am because they had 500 head of milking cattle so when they had breakfast, it was early. WE didn’t have to get up that early but still. We got to run around all day long and play in the dirt. My eldest brother helped with chores while my other brother, 15 mos. older than me, and I got to be energetic kids all day. The point is, we were surrounded by folks that loved us, worked hard and appreciated what they had instead of bemoaning what they didn’t have.

To this day, I would rather live on a farm (or at least a couple acres of land) than to be in a big ol’ house crammed so close to my neighbor that they could hear me pass gas if I ate beans for dinner. Just not my style. Don’t get me wrong, I DO like all the choices available in the Big D area. However, I could be perfectly fine living a few miles away and making a big deal out of “going to town”. Perhaps I’m getting older, too reminiscent and asking too much but I think we’ve ignored the simple ways FAR too long. Hey, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Worked for our granny and gramps so why not for us too?

Instead of going on and on, please link to this story, written by Bob Warren and read his fabulous article. The above picture was nicked from their site, so I hope they don’t mind too much. Brings back lots of fond memories of my years in El Dorado Springs as well. I consider myself a Texan now but El Do gets into your blood and you just can’t turn your back on the ol’ girl. (pssst! If you haven’t heard, Kathie Truitt’s new book is set in El Dorado Springs so make sure you hit her up for a copy on the Hillbilly Debutante blog site!!)

The name of the article is “Eatin’ Out in Old Frisco”. Here’s the link:



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