When I started writing this blog over two years ago (my how time flies when you are boring people to tears), the reason for the blog name had a meaning.
I knew I would write about The South, being southern, and what all of that means to me. I knew that most of it would be a little "different" (the southern way of saying something is strange or odd.)
People in The South just do things their own way. We're sometimes known for elegance and manners, but we are anything but refined and fancy. Our food is famous for taste but not-so-much for fine dining. We appreciate good shopping, but not the big city lights that shine on the storefronts.
We're simple in a lacy doily, lots of rules, let me tell you why you can't wear those white shoes on Christmas way.
To sum it up, this ain't New York.
The blog name stuck like an old windowpane in humidity and now I'm writing about eating White Lily biscuits made thanks to the loyalty and sympathy of my Mama and (cough, cough) Newman.
I'm living in Smalltown, New Mexico and, guess what. This ain't New York either.
I feel a little bit like a fish out of water.
You could say I'm out of my natural environment.
My natural environment is filled with hair spray, make-up, cleaning products with every combination of letters and numbers from the Periodic Table, artificial plants (unless you count my potpourri) and let's don't forget my beloved Febreze.
Basically, I've found that Cinnamon Apple-scented dead flowers and a mist of Linen Fresh work well with bleach. It gives the illusion that you've cleaned the entire house while doing laundry and baking fresh pies.
How did I get off on that subject?
Anyway.
This blog o'mine, still aptly named, has taken on new meaning in every sense of the word. And I love using every word I possibly can.
Only now I will be using words like "isolated beyond a Target's reach," "dryer than a new wife's first Thanksgiving turkey," and "Lord, give me understanding 'cause I'm all out of Won Ton Soup."
Or something like that.
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3 comments:
Oh, honey. Bless your heart. (The two most southern phrases I can throw at you in such a situation...and I MEAN THEM BOTH.)
I'm sure the desert is a nice place to visit but you wouldn't want to. . .oh, wait, you DO live there.
I know that you will find a way to let your magnolia self bloom planted next to all of those cacti--but in the mean time, I love you more than my luggage even though I've yet to lay eyes OR ears on you--and I'm so sorry that the culture shock is just getting wound up good and tight.
I love this blog, and the author has not paid me to say that, as she is fond of saying. I love her because she, like I, loves to use all the words. All of them. We get each other! You are going to take Smalltown by storm. And not Desert Storm, unless that would inspire you to write a post.
I love New Mexico! The southwest is not exactly the south but it has it's own charm and beauty and I know you will come to love it.
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