Would someone care to explain to me why I wasn’t born and raised in the south? I must say, I’m a tad bit jealous of those that were. Okay, that’s a lie. I’m a lot bit jealous. I have this image in my head of what life would’ve been like had I grown up in the south. I think I’d probably have larger love handles than what I already do, but I don’t know that I care. Ya’ll know Paula Deen? I think I would’ve turned in to her. And I’m okay with that. The Midwest isn’t a terrible place to be (I have to convince myself of that daily), but the South is where I wish I was.
I imagine I’d live in one of those old, plantation style homes. You know the kind….with big, white columns and ferns hanging on the porch, wicker rocking chairs, a porch swing overflowing with pillows of various, blending patterns and colors. I’d always have sweet tea in the fridge and freshly cut flowers on the kitchen table. The wooden floors in my home would become familiar with the feet of guests that I’d entertain and the walls would echo with laughter. The grass in my yard would be green and lush and there would be a cute little garden in my back yard with just enough vegetables to always have fresh cucumbers and tomatoes to snack on. I’d have a kitchen table that could seat 12, just like my momma’s. I’d have a wall dedicated just to family pictures. I’d have a living room with plenty of seating and, Lord willing, my home would be within walking distance to a fully stocked pond, one that my babies and I could fish from on summer evenings after dinner. I would hope that my home was seated on a hill, and that nothing would block my view of the sunrise and sunset. My dream is that I would have cows grazing all around me and a few horses that, at any given moment, my babies and I could saddle and take off for an afternoon ride, exploring and learning about nature. I would home school my kiddos and we would have an outdoor classroom. My front door would be red and all that entered through it would feel welcome and loved.
I imagine I would live in a small town, one that was nostalgic and made me feel like I lived in 1965. There’d be a little diner, I’d be the owner, and several days a week, I’d serve breakfast and lunch to the Regulars. Have ya’ll seen Gilmore Girls? This TV show is centered around a small town called Stars Hollow. Everybody knows everybody and there are no secrets. Other than Stars Hollow being completely and totally geographically wrong (Connecticut), this is what my southern little town would be like. A girl can most certainly dream, right?
But I’m not in the South. I’m in the Midwest. I don’t have one of those cute little southern drawls. I don’t use enough butter when I cook and bake. And I don’t love SEC football. I could change my ways, though, because I think deep down, I’m a Georgia Peach. Heck, I’d even settle for Mississippi Hippie.
Back to reality~Rach