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Posts tagged "southern"
Seriously loved Memphis, it is the city that always seems to have a song playing somewhere. Walking down Beale St at night was amazing…every place had a different song wafting out it’s front doors and it was such an easy atmosphere. We ended up finding a little outdoor area where a band was playing under a gazebo decorated with fairy lights so we hung out at the picnic tables and chilled the night away.
Every time I come back home to Georgia I’m reminded that I love the South. Almost everything about it. The slow and sweet accents, the heat, the trees, the flowers, the architecture, the Spanish moss, the traditions, the heritage, family, the food, and the love of God, Momma, and football.
And I think to myself, “How could I ever consider living anywhere else than the South?”
My home has many flaws: ignorance, traces of racism (still after so many years), people being set in ways that aren’t so good, and poverty.
But even with all it’s flaws, I know that I am and always will be a Southern Belle, and I thank God every day for placing me in such a gloriously wonderful part of the world.
What I love…
Fried pickles, drunk chicken, craw fishing in the creek, wild turkey, deer jerky tough as Tarzan’s feet, hot women skinny swimmin’, barely belly button deep, turn muddy river water into sweet sweet tea, hayloft lovin’ in the holler behind the house. No doubt about what I love about the south.
Loretta lynn, maker’s mark, that’s Kentucky as can be. Jack Daniels, Dolly Parton, oh the hills of Tennessee. Finger pickin’, bluegrass blowing in the wind around here. We believe the book of john and we drive John Deeres. The devil came to Georgia, Mr. Daniels showed him out. No doubt about it what I love about the south.
What I love about the south. If you need a Dixie Fix just come on down. That’s what I love about the south. Southern bells with a drawl, make you stop and drop your jaw. Come on ya’ll shut your mouth. That’s what I love about the south
Grew up down here and it’s where I’ll grow my kids. Old McDonald had a daughter, get her done got her did. Corn grows in rows on a cob but it flows from a jar. In a rocky top bar, a little fountain from the mountain even made the possum shout. That’s what I love about the south.
Growing up Southern is a privilege. It’s more than where you’re born, it’s an idea, a state of mind that seems imparted at birth. It’s more than loving fried chicken, sweet tea, baseball, bibles, and country music. It’s being devoted to screen porches, magnolias, coke, and each other. We don’t become Southern, we’re born that way.
Charles Kuralt, Southerners: Portrait of a People
(This is dedicated to Jack, who grew up in New England and is immune to southern charms. But you should follow him anyway because he writes lovely things.)
