Quote of the day...er...week...umm...hey, look, a quote!!

Tibi gratias agimus quod nihil fumas.

It says "...freedom of...", not "...freedom from...".

Nolite te bastardes carburundorum!

"It's amazing to me how many people think that voting to have the government give poor people money is compassion. Helping poor and suffering people is compassion. Voting for our government to use guns to give money to help poor and suffering people is immoral self-righteous bullying laziness. People need to be fed, medicated, educated, clothed, and sheltered, and if we're compassionate we'll help them, but you get no moral credit for forcing other people to do what you think is right. There is great joy in helping people, but no joy in doing it at gunpoint." - Penn Jillette

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Who Are You, Again?

I grew up in New England, lived there until I was fifteen when I moved to Georgia.

I didn't necessarily like it here, at first - it was hot, humid, and people spoke funny. They acted funny, too. And they ate funny food. Honestly, have you ever seen a grit??

They used strange language and ran their words together, and the accent...the accent was...awful! People speaking like they had a mouth full of marbles, and slow like they had all day to say "yes" or "no".

I learned to like it, and then to love it, over time. Now, while I miss a proper Winter and Summers under one-hundred degrees, I do like it here. Oh, and Autumn. Real Autumn, with trees blazing out the change of seasons with trumpet blasts of colour. Here in Georgia, it is more subtle...less a trumpet and more a gentle caress of harp strings - ochre rather than gold, rust rather than crimson.

I discovered barbecue - up North, barbecue meant hot dogs and burgers on the grill, not portions of pig or cow slow-cooked with delectable sauces and served with fried okra (Oh, how I adore fried okra. I'm still not eating a grit, though.) - and country-fried steak with white gravy(White! Who knew there was white gravy??). Sweet tea. Cobbler. I have embraced NASCAR and Wrasslin' (well, not embraced, exactly, but I can and do have fun with them), peaches in all their glory and pecan pie. I am OK with being a little white trash, a little redneck, and a lot comfortable with my nature.

I finally came to embrace "y'all", too. Most languages have a plural form of "you", so why shouldn't we? It's a useful term, just please don't make the mistake of saying "you all". It's "y'all".

I never had an accent when I lived up North. not, really...when I moved to Georgia, no one said "you must be a Yankee" or anything. They thought I was from the Midwest. These days, I may or may not sound Southern. I'm not pressed...sometimes, sounding Southern is useful - it's easy to underestimate someone when you assume they're an idiot.

I will frequently say (or type) "Aww, sugar..." and I mean it to show warmth, empathy, and a sense of welcome, to convey sympathy and a willingness to listen and be a friend if that's what's wanted.

One of the best things about living in the South is this: if you have a poor memory for names (as I have), almost everyone can be "sugar", "honey", "sweetie", or "darling" without offense. What a blessing when you don't (or rarely) forget a face, but names...names are slippery things that sometimes don't last a few seconds before they're forgotten.

So stop on by for a glass of tea and some biscuits and gravy...and maybe a little bit of Sugar.

4 comments:

Susan said...

Awww sugah..I can't, (cain't?), do the Nascar or wrasslin' but I'll shore do up some grits for ya. They'll make you want to slap yo mamma!!!

Kyddryn said...

Heh...more likely they'll make me want to slap whoever thought 'em up - they're one of the very few foods I simply cannot bring myself to try again - the first horror was enough.

And instant grits? Who on Earth came up with THAT travesty??

Now, if you've a mind to share some cornbread and a glass of tea, I'm your gal!

Kit said...

Instant grits ARE a travesty.
And I'll take some of those grits please, Susan! YUM!

Kyddryn said...

Kit, you may have my share. I suspect that my dislike for them has much to do with their mouth-feel and the slight ammonia pungency I detect in them than anything else. This from a woman who at haggis more than once! Go figure...