Hometown Pride

I love, love, love living in a small town where the streets are heavily shaded by trees that were planted in the previous century and a rich pioneer heritage runs deep.  A community that boasts the state's first courthouse and a rock church (our church) where the first Primary was formed by Aurelia S. Rogers back in 1878.  

I love living in a small town where there are more horses than strip malls. Where there are more tractors than restaurants.  Where you feel safe letting your kids be kids outside, and the people you rubs shoulders with are some of the most down to earth people you know.  

Salt of the earth kind of people.

I love my town.

I enjoy the fact that I live in a house that was one of the original adobe brick homes in the area.  Built back in 1854 by Joseph Lee Robinson, our home housed the first LDS Bishop in our town and his 5 wives.  No, they didn't all live here at once, but they each lived in the house at some point during their married lives to him. 

Our neighbor's rock home used to be the barn for our house. Our shed that contains all of our gardening and lawn tools used to house 2 African American boys who helped the Robinson family move to Utah from back east.  They lived in this little shack next to our house until after the Civil war, at which time they left to return to their families. 

 

You just don't find history like that in new subdivisions.

The 2nd weekend of every July we take time to celebrate our beloved Farmington.  Its history, its heritage, its people, its idyllic nature.  A chance to sit along our gorgeous leafy streets that are draped with Old Glory and participate in one of the most All-American activities.

A parade.

The swelling sirens of the firetrucks.  School bands.  Local officials and the crowned beauty queens.  Dance troupes, singing groups, sports teams. Tractors and horses and the jesters of the parade - the pooper scoopers.  And what about those old Shriners guys with their goofy tasseled hats riding those mini-motorized bikes?  Those guys are Jeff's favorites.  Their perfectly choreographed display of riding abilities is something to behold.  He can't get enough of 'em!  We even recognized a FJH 8th grade officer amongst the parade goers.  She sprayed our group with her water bottle and threw us an extra hearty handful of taffy.

The taffy!  Boatloads of taffy! Suckers, Tootsie Rolls, and Otterpops.  Stuffed animals, frisbees, and even hair product.  Our kids have honed their goodie gathering skills and are quite proficient at it.  They always come home with a bag full of sticky sweets and chewy confections.

Following the parade there is a festival in the park.  Bouncy toys, games, and face painting for the kids.  Lots of food. Local businesses selling their wares. Helicopter rides and ongoing entertainment.  Oh, and the chance to win a baby frog (or two). 

And not a beer can in sight.

Our Mormon ancestors would be pleased. 

And did I mention that we have some of the best lookin' people around these here parts?

Follow the day up with a concert in the park, free ice cream, and a full fledged fireworks display. 

This is the only kind of public drinkin' you'll see.

But there's always a lot of baby kissin' going on.

This is what summer dreams are made of.  

This is why I love my town.

And never want to leave.