Why I Love the South - Reason #5

So it's been a while since I wrote about why I love the South... and oh, how I love it!

Reason #5: The cold never lasts long!

Here in the deep South, it has been ffffrrrrreeezzzingggg!!! We're just not used to the weather we have been having down here!

Lucky for us Southerners, me, because I can't deal with the cold, it doesn't last very long. This weather has been very out of character for Mississippi. I can feel it to my bones, which makes me stay snuggled up in the house, which I don't mind for oh, about 24 hours. Then, the cabin fever sets in big time.

After Christmas is over, I'm chomping at the bit for Spring to roll around. Here, Summer rolls around about two weeks after Spring makes its appearance, but I'm ok with that. Here's what I have to look forward to:

                               

Ahhh, warm. Maybe I'm a big ol' baby, but I sure am glad I live here.

Now, on a serious note, I realize that with all the tragedy in the world right now, I'm ridiculous to be complaining about the weather. Please join me in praying for Haiti!

I hope you all have a great week. I've been busy, busy, writing, writing, writing, but I promise to be back soon.

The Help

A few months back, I bought a copy of Kathryn Stockett's book, The Help. It sat on our bookshelf since then. I threw it in my beach bag before we left for Perdido and dove into it when we got there. Whoa. It's amazing. I could not put it down.

Stockett is a native of Jackson and the book is set in Jackson in the 1960s, during the Civil Rights movement. It's told from the view point of the black maids that raised the rich white people's babies, cleaned their houses, and cooked their dinners. It's funny, revealing, and probably pretty accurate. It is really making me realize how far we have truly come as a nation, especially here in little ol' Jackson, Mississippi. I don't think people realize it, but it only 40 some odd years we have come so far.

I'm right smack dab in the middle of the book now. My husband told me he's glad to see me reading. Kind of made me feel stupid. He said he hasn't seen me that involved in a book in a while. My response was, "Yeah, I had babies." Geez, when they aren't pulling on me, I pass smooth out. Like I have time to read. That's how you know this book is good. I don't fall asleep immediately.

Off to bed. I'll sneak in a few chapters before I doze.

More of My South

I know it's not quite summer yet, but it really has been such a pretty day today. This time of year, when the weather starts to slightly warm up and I just want to go run around outside, is when I really start appreciating this place. I start to smell the distinct aroma of the red dirt of Neshoba County, which is where I spent a lot of summer weekends growing up. There really was nothing like it. I would spend all day outside, getting muddy and dirty and breathing the fresh country air deep into my lungs. And if it would rain, my family would simply sit on my grandfather's front porch swing and watch the drops hit the dusty dirt road. I'm sure at times I was bored, but little did I know, I was making memories that would forever be ingrained. I get so busy now and forget how nice it is to slow down and just enjoy God's world around us.

A few more little quips that I love from the book My South by Robert St. James. I just love this book! I especially love the last one...

My South is that slow southern slang that rolls off the tongue like sweet molasses and greets every soul we pass as though we've known them for years.

In my South, 'round here is an exact location.

My South is front porch sitting, screen door cricking, constant finger licking, guitar picking, humidity dripping, lemonade sipping, sweet summer afternoons.

Social Security

I'm apparently irresponsible. Somehow I managed to lose not only my social security card, but both of my girls' cards as well. So this morning I had the invigorating experience of spending three and a half hours in the social security office downtown. The system is screwed up and I could go on and on about how after waiting for an hour the other day, I was informed I didn't have the correct proof of ID, had to go back and wait two hours today, only to be put back in the waiting room because the guy could only issue two cards, I had to see someone else to get three... but that's not the point of this post.



While sitting in the rock hard chairs, I befriended a gentleman from the Phillipines. He and his wife and kids moved here to the states because of his job. It's a small world, because we realized he worked only minutes from where I live. He's lived all over the U.S. and has settled here in Mississippi. I asked him where his favorite place to live has been, and to my surprise he said right here in Mississippi. He mentioned how he wished that there were more museums and historical places to tour, but the fact that the people are so warm makes up for all of the state's shortcomings. I found that comforting. On paper, Mississippi may not seem so great, but in person it's the best.

My Sweet, Sweet, South

Not long ago, as a little Christmas gift to myself, I bought the book My South by Robert St. John. First of all, the book is full of fun little one liners that only Southerners can truly appreciate. Things like "My South uses knives and forks, but biscuits and corn bread finish the job." Second of all, you all know I eat this stuff up...

Here's a poem by Christine Carr from the book:

In my South, there is a spirit, a holy spirit that

heals old wounds, melts the heart,

and brings all people together.

It's that spirit that is the source of our progress.

We are moving - we are moving forward, you know.

And now that we are moving and

We've got all this progress and that's great.

But you know, I can still have my front porch,

my sweet tea, and that good home cookin' -

even on a low-carb diet.

We can hold on to the beauty of this

old, old place, as we're moving.

We are moving forward and we are moving forward together.

I love this. One of the things I like the most about the South is that it is a place that sort of stands still in time. We are really good at preserving our culture, which I think is so important. You can't know where you're going until you know where you came from.

With that being said, I also think it's important that we move on. Let's face it, this is an amazing place, but it has a sorted history. It's a well known fact that the South is by no means perfect. We need to let go of as much of our history as we should hold on to, which I think we are doing.

I love my South, and this poem really sums up how I feel about it. Just because we hold on to what is great about our history, doesn't mean we are behind the times. We can live in harmony and sip sweet tea together. We can let go of our hate, but keep our cornbread, and that's my kind of South.

Why I love the South - Reason #4

When I was a teenager I was determined that I was going to be a big-time television news reporter when "I grew up." The only thing that didn't appeal to me about that job was the fact that I would most likely have to give up my Southern accent.

I love a true Southern accent. Watching actors try to nail one drives me nuts.
Nicole Kidman in Cold Mountain.
Kyra Sedgwick in The Closer.
Julia Roberts in Charlie Wilson's War.
Give me a break. The list goes on and on.

My four-year-old is super Southern. I find myself correcting her when she draws out her one syllable words into four syllables or when she says "laht" rather than light. I've got to stop doing that. It seems that even Southerners think their own accent makes them look stupid, thanks to other parts of the country that take that to be the truth. I think it's a part of culture we need to hold on to.

Luckily for me, I grew up to be a writer rather than an on-air reporter (I guess I'm a grown up now?), so my accent is still dripping with y'alls, fixing-tos, and lots of syllables and hopefully, through written word, I can still sound somewhat intelligent to others throughout the country...just maybe.

Oh what fun

Last night we went to the state fair to ride a few rides and have some fair food for dinner. The kids had a great time (and so did we). Our oldest was so excited and squealed the majority of the time and #2 chilled in the stroller in her usual manner. #1 wouldn't ride anything by herself, so we were the idiots squeezed into the kiddie rides.

Why I love the South - Reason #3

Chivalry is alive and well down South.

Let me be clear, I know full well that I am perfectly capable of opening my own doors and pulling out my own chairs. I think that women can do anything men can do, blah, blah, blah, but it sure makes me feel good to have my husband open a door or something of the sort. When I was younger and in the dating world, my parents would be appalled if some guy I was dating didn't go around and open a car door for me. It's common courtesy, and part of our culture in the South. I can only hope it's a piece of culture we can hold on to for the next generation.

Why I love the South - Reason #2

Little girls in big hairbows. Hated it as a kid, love it as a mom. When my oldest daughter and I went on a trip up north, or more north, she was the one and only little girl wearing a bow at the McDonald's playland. Not so on our usual Chick-Fil-A outings - she's one of many. I guess it's another piece of Southern culture.

Luckily, my oldest loves them. #2 has it coming... I'm just waiting on that hair to grow out.

Why I love the South - Reason #1

Last night I tried to explain to a certain someone (you know who you are) why I love the South and Mississippi in particular. This got me thinking. My first post was all about how much I love this state, and now I'll elaborate and give you my first reason why.

Sidenote - I asked my husband to tell me the number one reason he thought I loved the South and he said, "because I live here, of course." A little full of himself, but he makes a good argument.

One very important reason I plan on never leaving the South - down-home, stick-to-your-bones, creamy, greasy, cheesy, Southern cooking. I don't know how people live without it. I try to eat pretty healthy the majority of the time. In our house we eat a lot of grilled chicken and fish with fresh vegetables, but inevitably, the time comes when a craving hits me and all my inhibitions and good intentions are a lost cause.

My go-to place for Southern cuisine would have to be my husband's grandmother's house in Crystal Springs. Let me tell you, Paula Deen has nothing on this woman. The house itself, the atmosphere, and the fare are the epitome of a Southern grandma's house. To my delight, calories and cholesterol mean nothing here. Walking through the doors, I'm greeted by the aroma of freshly baked bread, cakes, and every kind of casserole you could

imagine - a spread that usually takes an entire weekend to prepare. The presentation of the food is also awe-inspiring. You'll never have a meal here that isn't served on the finest of china. Leaving, I always find myself painfully, yet delightfully full.

Mississippi is statistically the most obese state in the country, thanks in large part, I'm sure, to grandmothers from the Delta to the Gulf Coast. But hey, the way I see it, at least we're fat and happy.

Jackson - not so shabby, despite popular belief

Last week, I had the privilege of visiting a Pilates studio in Jackson to research an article I am writing.

I was rushed that morning, trying to get ready with a kid hanging on each leg while attempting to meticulously apply mascara. I hurried out the door and opened the garage to a torrential downpour. I made my way to the studio frantically gathering my notebook, cell phone, and recorder, all scattered across the front seat of my car. I checked the mirror, assuring myself that I looked like a serious, put-together journalist, and ran inside through the rain.

I walked through the doors and whoa! It was like walking into a different world full of aromatherapy, dim lights, and soothing music. I decided I would stay there indefinitely. This was my kind of place - a place I could actually nap. The owner of the studio approached me ever so calmly, carrying a sprig of rosemary and raving about how great it smelled.

This was a state-of-the-art studio, complete with every Pilates device you could imagine, instructors with "at least a master's degree," and a really impressive atmosphere.

This got me thinking... Jackson gets such a bad rap. Everybody complains about it and how every place is so much better, we have nothing to be proud of, blah, blah, blah. But the people that invest in Jackson really invest in Jackson and are extremely proud of it. Now, don't get me wrong, there are many things we could improve on. I'm still in desperate need of an IKEA and there are places in Jackson where I feel inclined to lock my car doors, but tell me a city where it's not like that.

I'm proud of Jackson. We have lots of hidden treasures. We should all stop complaining and use our energy discovering these amazing little places, like the Pilates Place of MS, throughout the city and support them.

Sweet Home Mississippi

Deciding to dedicate this blog to Southern culture was a no-brainer. Growing up in rural Mississippi, I counted down the days until I could leave the South. I just had to leave this bucolic place behind. I had dreams to rush off to the likes of New York City, make a name for myself, and live life to the fullest.

Being young and naïve, I bought into the stereotypes given to Southerners, particularly Mississippians. After all, aren’t all of us illiterate, racist, and unforgivably behind the times?

As fate would have it, I was accepted and offered a generous scholarship to Mississippi College, a mere thirty minutes from home. I was excited, but still a small part of me was insanely jealous of my friends who were off to new and exciting places. While in college, I met my husband and we later settled, yep, you guessed it, right here in Mississippi.

After the birth of our first child, my view of Mississippi began to change. I began to investigate what I wanted my daughter to gain from her childhood - and from her mother. I quickly realized everything I considered positive about my life went back to one common thread – my Southern upbringing. Instead of seeing the negative, my eyes began to open to all the unique characteristics of home that helped make me who I am. I hoped to instill in my daughter the same values my parents found to be so vital to my well-being.

There were so many memories that only Mississippi could offer that I couldn’t bear my daughter to miss out on. Summers spent with purple fingers from shelling peas, the smell of Neshoba County red dirt, jumping from a makeshift rope swing into my grandfather’s muddy pond, my uncle’s homemade ice cream, and Decembers filled with Christmas cantatas at every local church.

Recently I had the opportunity to watch as my daughter took her first swim in that very same muddy pond that I spent numerous summers splashing around in. She loves a bowlful of purple-hulled peas and her favorite treat is that unbeatable homemade ice cream. Her rapidly developing vocabulary is splattered with “y’alls” and “fixing tos”. She’s pretty much Southern to the core and I couldn’t be happier about it.

My brother, who now lives in Kansas, comes home to visit with a look of relief on his face at the first signs of a true Southern accent. My friends who ventured off to new and exciting places have, for the most part, returned home. There’s a reason people come back. There’s warmth here, and it’s not just the 100 degree heat. This is where I grew up, where I’m raising my children, and where I hope to retire someday. My younger self would surely be taken aback. She’d be surprised to learn that I am, in fact, living life to the fullest – right here in Mississippi.

I have heard that sometimes you have to leave Mississippi in order to truly appreciate it, but that doesn’t ring true for me. They say the grass is always greener on the other side, but my grass is pretty green here in Mississippi – so I think I’ll stay.