A Note of Thanks

Dear Sunshine Farms,

It has been 10 years since we came to know you. In those ten years, you've given us some incredible memories. And to express my gratitude, I'm going to thank you for a few things...

...for being so peaceful and beautiful; for always being open and welcoming; for being warm in the winter and cool in the summer; for your porches and the breezes they bring; for the laughter and the tears; for making the rain sing on your tin roof; for your horizon views; for the bonfires we bond around, fight around, debate around, drink around and sing around; for your pool the grandkids have learned to swim in; for the ugliest, most comfortable couch in the kitchen no one can bring themselves to throw out; for the loft that held us all those years in the beginning; for the spiral staircase that gives us heart attacks; for the endless stars and largest moons; for the front row seats to daily sunrises and nightly sunsets; for the roaring fires in your fireplace - and the gas starter; for the farm trucks; for the guest room that is too hot; for your awesome cabana we party in; for your red front door; for your old tobacco barns; for your beautiful oak trees; for loving our friends and welcoming them like family; for the ice makers; for the camo and orange jackets that always fall off the knobs in the hallway; for the clock we can't read and all hate; for the Ranger we've driven too fast, gotten stuck, flipped, and raced in; for the mud on our tires; for being a dog's dream come true; for homemade egg nog; for keeping the beer cold and the wine chilled; for the kitchen island; for the red barn and the green tractor; for the rosemary bush to beat all rosemary bushes; for two refrigerators, two freezers and two dishwashers; for the playground you let lean, but not fall; for your ceilings that touch the sky or at least seem to; for always serving beer on Sundays in a dry county; for all your rocking chairs; for the toy cabinets; for the answering machine with that familiar drawl; for your pantry that is never organized for more than a few hours; for hayrides and for s'mores; for early morning basketball games; for the bowling lane table we gather around, the saw horses underneath that bang our knees and the 27, mostly broken, mismatched chairs adorning it; for PopTarts and cinnamon rolls; for the flag pole that was a labor of love; for the concrete slabs with all our initials; for oyster shooters and pig pits; for the RV park; for our Daddy's pecan field; for The Point and the local classical radio station you tune in up there; for the official Guest House; for little fishing ponds and cane poles; for the lightning bugs and dragon flys, but not the wasps and mosquitos; for Charlie Brown Christmas trees; for bacon; for your bookshelves; for hot coffee on cool mornings and hot chocolate on cold nights; for Blair Witch roads and lighted crosses; for deer, turkey, quail and skeet, but not for armadillos; for your heart of pine floors and old doors; for your enormous gas grill; for wine grapes and family projects; for hosting beautiful weddings and family holidays; for traditions; for welcoming our Dad home and for becoming ours.

For all of this and more, we say thank you.