I’m a Kansas girl. When I’m asking about picturing home, it’s where my mind goes. I was born in a small-town hospital in northwest Kansas and spent the first two-plus decades of my life as a residential Kansan.
Now, several years and duty stations later, I still proudly call myself a Kansan. I’ve also learned how to field those always-predictable questions that immediately follow my answer about where I’m “from.”
“Kansas, huh? Have you seen Dorothy lately? What are tornados like? How’s Toto doing?”
