Just as much as I love my country, I love the country. I love being a southerner. I've never been anything else. I'm sure the north has its perks, but as they say, "ignorance is bliss". And I'm quite sure that even if I did give being a "yankee" a chance, I'd still choose to be a southerner. I love good ol' southern hospitality. I love that when I walk through any public place and I make eye contact with a stranger, smiles are exchanged. Sometimes even a "Hey, how are you". Northerners don't do that. There's comfort in a shared smile and/or greeting. I love that we fry everything and drink sweet tea. It tastes better. I love our southern drawl. It's endearing. And I love that we have the best football conference in the nation (not that I'm claiming to be the BIGGEST f/b fan.) Bbbbuuuuutttttt.......... War. Eagle.
Taking it a step further: I love being southern and living "in the sticks". I grew up in the country. Me and Kelly (my sister) spent our free time playing in the woods. We had forts, named bays along the branch, and (attempted to) catch crawdaddies. It was nothing to have our legs covered in mosquito bites. (Random: Anybody remember dog days??? Terrible.) We didn't worry about strangers with candy. There were no neighbors near enough--except Grandma and Granddaddy who are literally through the woods and over the branch. We didn't have to worry about walking our dogs because they had plenty of land to roam as they pleased. As a little girl, I wanted nothing more than to live in a subdivision. I wanted to ride a bike to my friends' houses. Now that I'm older I am soooo glad that I didn't get the opportunity.
One of my most favorite childhood memories is riding my go-cart. If any of you have not been to my parents' home (aka the home of my childhood), there is a field in front, a field in back, and woods on either side of the house. My granddaddy is a cattle farmer so that's what the fields are for. Anyway, I would ride this red go-cart ALL over the yard. One day I came home to find that my granddaddy had taken the tractor and cut me out a maze in the back field. The grass was probably more than waist-high and my maze path was cut down. It was awesome! I could go as fast as I wanted, hugging the curves, and take a sharp right right around a curve. So what if I got off track? All I'd hit was grass. Best. Childhood. Memory. I bet all those city folk didn't have a personal maze in a cow pasture when they were young. Jealous much? Probably.
During the first three years of college I lived in Auburn. Those three years are the only exception to this next statement: I've always lived out in "the country". I absolutely love it. Last year when I graduated college, got my first big girl job, and officially became an adult (that horrendous word!!), I moved out of my parents' home and into my own. Well, not technically since I rent, but you get my drift. The first decision was where to live? Do I want the convenience of the city or the beauty of the country? Do I want the night time sounds of cars and pedestrians or do I want the sounds of crickets chirping and frogs croaking? In the end I chose the country. Now I live in a modest two bedroom home with an immodest front and back yard. It's so nice to have my own little space to have a summer garden, hang ferns off of the front porch, sit with friends on the deck, plant flowers in the front beds, and wave at the neighbors when I go to check my mail. Plus, all of that comes with the country price tag which is significantly cheaper than the city's. I feel that I made the superior choice.
As I was driving to a friend's house yesterday after work, I looked at my fellow small-town country residents. As you know, every route in the country is scenic so there's plenty to look at. Just a few things I observed:
- people mowing the lawn
- kids playing baseball and football in the front yard
- teenager riding horseback
- father and son on the gator driving home from the neighbor's
- lots and LOTS of American flags hanging from porches
- leaves burning
- honeysuckle
- fresh cut hay fields
My summer garden
View from my window when I wash dishes
My home
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