The Latta Family

The first time I met Doug's parents, they teased me about being a "City Girl." I laughed because . . . I came from the "city" of Spartanburg.  It hardly counts.  However . . . compared to where they used to live, it was the city.  They lived way out in the country.   When I first started teaching, 17 years ago, the school I'm at- was a country school.  That was 17 years, and a LOT of suburban development later.  There was nothing but fields around my high school.  Now?  Now.  Now there are: shopping centers, grocery stores, movie theaters, a bazillion neighborhoods.  Traffic can be ridiculous at times.   Doug is an agriculture teacher.  His content has changed a little bit over the years.  He still teaches horticulture, but does a lot more shop stuff now.  Students "down there" in Ag World learn how to weld, and do wood working, a little bit of electrical, and maybe some plumbing (they used to- do they still?  I don't know.  A good wife,

Doug claims he had no idea he was committing such an atrocious, foul, crime.  I beg to differ. When cleaning out a bag this morning, I stumbled on a 1/2 opened bag of Tropical Skittles (they weren't old).  Jack POT!!!!!  I hid those bad boys behind some bread on the kitchen counter and proceeded to graze on them while I made lunch and started prep work to make this week's Mason Jar Salads for mine and Doug's lunches.  (Total side note: if you're not on the Mason Jar Bandwagon . . . YOU SHOULD BE!!!!!!!!!!). I was down to the last 5 Skittles: 4 pink and 1 purple.  The very best flavors of the bag.  I got distracted and forgot about them for a bit.  When I went to get them . . . they were GONE!  There's only one person in my house that was tall enough to see them behind the bread and at the back of the counter. I stomped out to the deck (where Doug was enjoying his lunch) and berated him for stealing the last 5 Skittles.  I couldn't say all the things I wanted

Weeks ago, a fake snake showed up in our yard.  I noticed it one day, when I was walking the dog. I saw it from a distance, and approached with caution.  I wasn't too alarmed by it, as snakes don't bother me- at all.  (birds are a whole other story, and I will dance around the yard like a freak, if one buzzes by me. I once ran off the deck and left a tiny toddler Alexa on the deck, where a bird landed. Proud mom moment.)   I assumed it belonged to one of the kids in the neighborhood- so I left it.  I figured they'd come get it. Well, we were doing some yard work, and the snake was in the exact spot we were working, so we threw it to another spot.  At this point, it was a little buried in the grass and not as noticeable because the grass was getting taller, so now when we would walk around the yard, the "snake" would surprise one of us.  And yet . . . we left it.  Why?  Duh!  It was fun watching one of us get surprised. Earlier this week, Doug got a text from a