The South

American, by birth. Southern, by the Grace of God.

That’s what we used to say. Meaning that we were so lucky to be bred in the Southern part of the United States of America. The South. The Deep South. Isn’t it funny how we come to love or loathe the places from whence we came? Most of us have strong opinions about the land of our forefathers and foremothers. Few people feel lukewarm about it. Whether because of practical lifestyle situations, such as climate, or because of tone and characteristics of the population, we often feel that this place is right for us. Or we feel that we can’t wait to get out of here. Me? I generally fall on the love-it side, but sometimes get frustrated with the way things are 'round here.  By ‘here’, I mean this part of the world. The Southeastern United States.

It just recently struck me how Southern our family really is. I presented this information to my grown-up kids, and they needed a minute to process it. The Southern roots run deep. There are many loose definitions for the US Southern States and Southeastern States. Most define a core group of states with some fringe states, like Delaware and Oklahoma occasionally added to the list, so that the total number of Southern states is somewhere between 9 and 14. For the purposes of this post, I use the American Association of Geographers classification to designate the states which make up the Southeastern States. By the way, by checking out the American Association of Geographers (AAG) website, I found that the organization has operated as a nonprofit since 1904. It has an active community of geographers, educators, and related individuals addressing topics such as industry, sustainability, transportation, military, health, geoengineering, and others, all through the lens of geography.  Who knew?

So, according to the AAG, the Southeastern United States consists of 11 states as listed below.  Here’s my kids’ heritage, combining my family with Rob’s family, listing the places where our families have lived.

• ALABAMA - Rob's Dad's family lived here.
• FLORIDA - Rob's Mom lived here during retirement.
• GEORGIA - Where we live now. 3/4 of our kids were born here.
• KENTUCKY - Rob grew up here.
• MARYLAND - Gwen's ancestors came from Europe and settled here around 1660.
• MISSISSIPPI - Rob was born here.
• NORTH CAROLINA - Gwen was born here.
• SOUTH CAROLINA - Gwen grew up here. 1/4 of our kids was born here. Gwen's Mom's family lived here.
• TENNESSEE - Rob's Mom's family lived here.
• VIRGINIA - Gwen's Dad's family lived here,
• WEST (by God) VIRGINIA - and here.

• 

You think we are Of The South? Darn Tootin’ we are. In fact, I’m Fixin’na Whup Up a skillet of cornbread, Cuz I’ve had a Hankerin’ fer some. Jus’ let me Slap Some ‘Skeeters away so I don’t get bit first. Then I’ll Hunker Down an’ get busy. Looks like we’re low on milk, but that’s ok, there’s More Than One Way Ta Skin a Cat. I’ll Figer’ it out.

Sometimes, The South slips out of my mouth. It happened one time when my son was young. He and his friend were bugging me relentlessly while I toiled in the kitchen. I shouted several warnings of "GitOnOuttaHeya!!!", but they kept pestering me. Weary of their constant interruptions, I pivoted away from the pot on the stove, baby on my hip and a spatula in my hand, lifted my leg towards the boys and yelled, “GIT B’FORE I KICK YA!!!” The boys collapsed in fits of laughter. My sudden outburst became a favorite phrase, rehashed over and over for years.

I have also learned, as my kids point out to me, that my pronunciation of many words is uniquely Southern. Take, for instance, the word Naked. I’m told that most people pronounce the word with a long A vowel sound: Naaa-ked. Not me; I say “Neck-id.” And that’s what caused a most embarrassing scene when I was a preteen. We were on an overnight field trip, staying in a motel. There was some titillating gossip spreading through the group that so-and-so girl and so-and-so boy were in the stairwell of the motel. I heard someone say that they were “Neck-id.” I was shocked, and with a concerned voice, I stammered, “They had clothes on when I saw them.” All the kids around me burst out laughing, so I joined in. But, secretly, I wondered what on Earth was going on and why someone wasn’t doing something about it. It wasn’t until much later that I learned the phrase “Necking,” which meant bigtime kissing. Ohhhhhhhh, they were Necking…….not Neck-id. No wonder everybody laughed.

Regarding my Southern Roots:

I Reckon I love livin’ in The South. It’s better than livin’ Over Yonder, where people think they are so Highfalutin! If you’ve got complaints about The South, you better Hold Your Horses and Hush Your Mouth. You might cause somebody to Pitch a Hissy Fit if you talk bad about The South. You’d be Barkin' Up The Wrong Tree.

What In Tarnation? Well, well, Look What the Cat Dragged In. I haven’t seen you since you were Knee-High to a Grasshopper. Glad you could stop by. You just better Mind Your P’s and Q’s, now, k? Don’t get Too Big For Your Britches. We don’t want things to go all Cattywampus on us. Soon as I can figure out this little Doohicky here, I’ll finish up this blog, and we can visit Til The Cows Come Home. We can Sit for a Spell and be Crazy As All Get Out. That is, if The Good Lord’s Willin’ and The Creek Don’t Rise.

Now, Shut the Door—You’re Lettin’ All the Good Air Out.

The rest of yall? Come on down, the weather's fine. Come visit me in The South.