When deliberating over what to do for today's challenge over our holiday dinner last night, my brother offered up the flag he had in his car. Thinking it was one of those dinky little flags that one waves at parade, I rather dismissed the idea. As we walked him to his car, in the backseat was this large flag. I said, "That's a nice looking flag there." And he replied, "Yeah. It was in Aunt Rhonda's School. When we went there after Hurricane Katrina for the salvage operation, she told us to take whatever we wanted. This flag managed to remain just three inches above the flood waters." Suddenly, this flag took on new meaning to me. No longer just a symbol of our country, it stood for the devastation of my childhood country. It is often joked that one should have a passport to go to New Orleans because it is like a separate country. Truer words were never spoken, now more than ever. And so, I salute my country, my home, and my flag.

Others finding joy in country life can be found at the Thursday Challenge Forum.