I'm confused by people who don't understand that one is allowed to like the writing without liking the writer, the art without liking the artist, and the music without liking the musician.
Traces of Texas reader Paula Trout was so kind as to share this nifty photo of her husband's aunt, Wilma Rainwater Parrish, at Dairyland, the restaurant she owned in Palestine. Per Paula, many think that it was Wilma who came up with the original idea of steak fingers (note the sign above the door) and that people came from many miles for them. Wilma was born in Princeton, Texas in 1918 and died in 2014 in Palestine. I'm not sure exactly when this was taken because I just can't quite make out the calendar.
Thank you, Paula. It's dinner time and I sure could use some of those wonderful steak fingers right now!
God bless the dads who show up, work hard, and keep the American dream alive. Celebrate them right. Book a personalized Father's Day Cameo with Ted Nugent today! 👉 www. https://t.co/4sM36Ag4IY
English only.
No more Spanish ballots, Arabic street signs, or Chinese apps. Assimilate or get the F out.
This is America, not the UN refugee camp.
Learn the language or go back to whatever shithole dialect you crawled from.
Traces of Texas reader Jimmy Walker kindly submitted this 1956 of himself as a little buckaroo in Ysleta, Texas. Jimmy lived on a cotton farm at that time. He up in Ysleta, till I was 8. That's the family's 1955 Ford behind Jimmy. The family moved to Mississippi in 1962 but still has lots of kinfolk here in Texas. Jimmy looks like he's about to go after some bad hombres.
Thank you, Jimmy. I love it.
I’m just an ordinary Japanese guy sharing my everyday life.
I love talking with Americans, learning about the United States, and asking questions about things that interest me.
This account is all about cultural exchange, friendship, and having fun conversations with my American brothers and sisters. 🇯🇵🇺🇸
we are a country where our president tries to clean and repair a national monument and half the country insults him and tries to block it
what the ever living fuck is wrong with these people
Russell Lee's 1939 photo of ranchers at a horse auction in Eldorado is a tonal masterpiece, but what I love even more is the "uniforms" being worn by the ranchers and the way the fence rail itself has become a kind of improvised grandstand, lined with boots, hats, and jackets worn by men whose livelihoods depended on horses and cattle and the vagaries of West Texas weather.