Tess Kincaid prompts us to create words inspired by her picture of choice. The Mag is a weekly challenge at Magpie Tales. Join the fun or just enjoy the writings of others. Either way you will not be disappointed.
is a series on the History channel. I lucked out and watched a two hour special. I loved it...because it was the truth. This special had Trace Adkins, Jeff Foxworthy, Al Bell, Bobby Bowden and Lynyrd Skynyrd along with some of today's best known Southerns offering their insight on our culture.
I laughed. I agreed. I am proud of my heritage.
Jeff said You can't put the South in one bucket. We don't all play banjo and date our sister.
We don't talk the same. Different areas of Dixie have different accents. People hear the accent and think our IQ is low. Not so, we're pretty smart. We like words and phrases like ain't, golldurnit, and fixinta. We are polite, loyal and are concerned about our neighbor. We can even be mean while seeming to be nice. Example: Look at her pulling those boards out with spiders on them. Bless her heart. This phrase takes away the bite of saying someone was acting stupidly. So basically you can insult someone politely by simply adding Bless their heart!
We were the first true pioneers before the colonies. We make do with what we have. If you don't have it, you create it. That junk piled up in the barn or behind the house is not junk. It's parts!
Southern ladies are not helpless. We can hunt and fish with the best of them. We also know you party with a Redneck but you marry a "good ole boy".
Per state the South has three time the hunters and two times the fishers as any of the other states. The rule is Don't kill anything you can't eat. It's tradition. Living off the land ties us to it.
National disasters...we dig in and survive. Dixie experienced devastation during the Civil War. Much was destroyed and took a generation to recover. We learned to rebuild then and are passing that down. Through each disaster we pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and take a go at living again.
Southerner Bear Bryant was the first college coach to integrate players. Coach Bryant held a record for games won. College and local football are things we love because we can win!
The South is called the Bible Belt and have more churches per capita in nine out of ten states compared to the rest of the United States. The religions and denominations vary but it's okay. Just go to a church.
Food and music are much loved through out the South...and every where else. No one's barbecue tastes the same so we have competitions with no one revealing their secret recipe. Trace Atkins said he liked any thing that was fried in deep fat. He said he didn't care what it was. "Put a lot of batter around the dead thing and drop it in the fat.." The saying is you can cook anything if you have these ingredients...sugar, salt, lard or alcohol. With these you can make cat food taste good.
The South brought you Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett, BB King, Elvis, Trace Adkins and oh, so many more!
The South gave you air conditioning, Jack Daniels Whiskey and Tabasco Sauce and then some.
Random Five Friday at A Rural Journal with Nancy was just the inspiration I needed today. I may have to call my Ramble Five!
1. Winter still hangs on in all it's glory. This is supposed to be part of the south but someone didn't get that message. We had just five inches of snow this time but add sleet, rain, freezing temps and you are walking on a ice rink.
2. I'll not tell how I can no longer break through the ice with my boots. I will not tell that when I come to an incline I sit and slide so I won't fall. I won't tell how cold my backside is after that slide.
3. Schools have been closed this time for a week and more weather is coming in soon.
4. Farmers are loosing calves to the extreme colds. We lost our last born. Some farmers have lost five or more.
5. Watching the dogs slide on ice is a little funny. I laugh but the dogs don't.
I like a schedule. I'm usually in bed by ten but not this night.
Two sad male faces of Hubby and Andrew met me bemoaning the horrible place that had nothing chocolate and nothing sweet. I promptly placed the cocoa can on my head and offered a kiss. They were horrified.
"Is there something chocolate and sweet you can make quickly?"
"Yes, you can make fudge. Take a quarter stick of butter...."
"No, not us. We wanted you to make something before you go to bed."
It's 9:45 PM. I like to go to bed at ten. I had fifteen minutes of Blue Bloods left while I was doing tax paperwork. No one seemed to be aware I'd been crunching numbers for a day and a half. All that stuff is magically done, by whom, they never know.
"What do you want? Cake, cookies, fudge?"
At ten I dragged into the kitchen, dug out my old recipe book and found no bake cookies...the easiest, quickest sweet chocolate item I knew.
I called Andrew for assistance. He cooks a few things. When I told him the art of chocolate dessert and how it affected women he almost became a willing participant...almost.
Instructing as we cooked, he measured and added items. I showed him the cap trick with vanilla....a cap is close to a teaspoon. He argued. Had to prove it. The recipe called for quick oats I had three minute oats but not quite enough so I added Cheerios. Andrew is questioning my process. I told him some of the best recipes have been made accidentally or by substitution. He had a puzzled seventeen-year-old male look on his face.
Time to spoon the cookies. I called them Drop cookies. Again, the look.
Finally the cookies have all been "dropped" and still warm. I stated that they needed to "set up"....yep, I got it again...The Look.
Hubby and Andrew grabbed bowls and spoons and walked away with still warm cookies and smiles.
several times a night. Now at 4:25 AM he is quite happily calling for the dawn. I have given up sleep and he crows away in the light of my window.
God bless this guy. The rooster mistakenly thinks since Hubby rescued him he should now sleep on our porch. He sleeps peacefully on my wooden block chair sharing his excrement and dark crows throughout the night as if they were a gift.
The dogs are with him so he fears nothing. His loyalty lies with Hubby who rescued him from an untimely death by untangling him from some vines where the rooster hung upside down.
My theory is his brain was oxygen starved for too long.
He should fear me when he crows so gallantly so early outside my window.
Rooster and dumplings are sounding good.
Be sore afraid, Mr Crowaholic, you are working to be a guest for dinner soon.