I’m an old fashioned girl. I believe in the boy calling me, making biscuits from scratch and faithfully attending every family reunion. My family is the reason I am the Bellomy girl I am. They sit back and watch the show, and there is no one more I would rather entertain. My parent’s have never tried to make me the person they wanted for a daughter. If I wanted to try out for volleyball, my Mom was there to pick me up after school and drive me to Carter Gymnasium. If I wanted to scrapbook my childhood, they would look at my creations with interest. They have always supported me in my dreams and goals, except for the time I wanted a horse. I had big plans of fencing in our front yard for my new horse, Kelly. Well, Kelly never happened because my dad predicted I wouldn’t properly take care of her, and still to this day I want a horse. My family history includes working in the garden and plowing the fields. This could be a major reason why I want my rehearsal dinner in a barn. Lisa, one of my mother’s best friends, was talking about the way of life in previous generations. The men would work all day in the fields while the women would gather in a kitchen and cook. This was their girl time. I wish I could have lived in those days. I want to live on a farm and have miles and miles of land to gallop on a horse as the wind blows through my hair. I want a front porch where I can rock my babies to sleep and ring the dinner bell when the food is on the table. I’m a simple girl who wants to raise cattle and bail hay. The song Cowboy Take Me Away is my ideal lifestyle. In conversation with one of my junior high English teachers who knows my family very well, this aspiration of mine came up. She was surprised at first, but then she realized my heritage. She said it was the Bellomy coming out in me.
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