Thanks for coming back to our #iPPP link-up! I can’t wait to see what camera photos you’re featuring today. And I do hope you’ll come back every Wednesday to share with us!

When I moved my blog over here to G*Funk*ified, I promised to reveal more of myself as a person.

One thing you may not know about me is that I got my first tattoo for my 18th birthday (about which my mom was so very disappointed), and have gotten three more since.

This is one of them, and I had a little revelation about it the other day:

I got this one at the beginning of my last year of college. The summer between semesters, I did an internship in Chickasha, OK for the Student Conservation Association. I lived in a rental house there with three other team members, and our team leader lived somewhere else in town. There were a lot of teams like ours, spread all over the U.S., and our “mission” was to teach the locals fire safety. In our area, it was focused on propane tanks, dry grass, stuff like that. In other areas, actual forest fires were more of an immediate danger, so those teams wanted to teach home owners how to prepare their homes in the event that one came close.

There is a large American Indian population in the area of OK that we lived in, and we were privileged enough to be able to set up our table and hand out information at a few pow wows, both big and small.

I was absolutely fascinated. I felt blessed to be able to witness those century-long traditions and wanted to somehow store those memories in my heart and take them back to the Univ. of Arkansas with me. I didn’t feel like, as a white girl of Swedish and German descent, I had many “traditions” to take part in. Sure, my family did certain things every year for Christmas or whatever, and there are a few foods that my grandma makes that her grandmas made, and on and on. But to me, it was nothing like this. These participants had beautiful costumes, songs, and dances, that they had passed down generation to generation.

So anyway, when I came back to Pig Country in the fall, I wanted a permanent reminder of the experiences I had had, the friendships I had made (hi, Jenny!), and the beauty that I had witnessed. I chose an eagle, because they were so predominant in the events.

Now, this is the point in the story when I admit that I searched online for clip art. CLIP ART. Yes, I said it. And yes, it was 2002 (way before Pinterest, y’all). I wanted an eagle, but not a literal one. I wanted it to be my own. And the picture above is what I came up with (I think he’s pretty darn cute).

It wasn’t until I was in the shower the other day that I realized that what I’m doing now, here, with this blog, is forming traditions for my family and recording them. I knew I wanted to be a part of something way back in Chickasha, OK, but I had no idea I would be a part of a family of six, making memories to cherish and look back on in 40 years. And possibly pass on to my grandkids or great-grandkids.

Who knows? But it’s a start.