© Elaine Lanmon. 2007 All Rights Reserved
(I’m sure you already know this)
Can be put into one of two groups.
In Texas they told me, they were nesters or ranchers…
nothing else, not bankers, or accountants, or doctors, or
whores, or bartenders. Well, there were Mexicans..they
also fell in the same two groups…but not really.
Now you would think, wouldn’t you, that
As time went on and all these folks with all their skills
moved here, put down roots, altered things
even in Texas, yes indeed…that the two-group thing would change,
but in some folks’ minds it just never did.
They reasoned that everyone came from somewhere and if you came
from Texas or Mexico, you had to be a Rancher or a Nester. “’Cause
everybody’s daddy or mom was brought up on a ranch or on a farm.
That determined what kind of person you were and if you could be trusted.”
(Of course if you were a Yankee, you weren’t a person anyway and you might
just as well pack your bags and leave. Because if you didn’t, no one here was
gonna’ talk to you except at church
……. and that was just to be polite.)
Well I guess I understand it better now.
I’m a nester…it’s in the blood…weighed down with responsibilities…
driven to finish things, and start things, and look after things, and fix it if it’s broken and possibly can, and cry over it a long time if you can’t.
I married a Rancher.
They figger it’s god’s will.
You either make it or you don’t …no use to cry or worry and if it’s
meant to happen, it will; and it it ain’t it won’t.
We had two sons.
One’s a Rancher….one’s a Nester.
© Gay Reiser Cannon. All Rights Reserved